Layers: Book One Read Free Page B

lo…like, Jaxson Ryan.
    I push my laptop aside and take out my iPhone. I’m overjoyed to find my Ryan e-mail account hasn’t been shut down… yet. I scroll through, replying to several but deleting most. I then scan my personal mail. I notice about a dozen messages from my bank that are marked “Urgent!!” Before I get a chance to check them out the door opens and Jaxson Ryan, CEO of Ryan Acquisitions, strolls in.
    He tugs out a chair and folds his lanky body onto it. He exhales and gives me a weary smile. “Hey.”
    “Hey, yourself.”

    “You look…rested.”
 Rested. Really? That’s all you got?
    “You look like shit.”
    He cocks his head. “It’s been a long week.”
    “I can see.” I raise a brow . “When was the last time you shaved?”
    “I don’t know—three, maybe four days.” He lets out a long tired sigh. “How was your holiday? That’s what they call it in Europe, right?”
    “It was…good.” I shrug. “Okay, it sucked. If Gram hadn’t insisted, I wouldn’t have gone. She sure knows how to lay on the pressure and guilt.”
    “Are you okay?” Really?
    “I don’t know Jaxson, am I?”
    He runs a hand through his blackish-brown wavy hair. I have no clue as to why this one simple act turns me into liquefied Jell-O. Truthfully just about everything he does turns me inside out. Jaxson Ryan is hands-down the most attractive man I’ve ever met—the poster man for the tall, dark and handsome. Lord knows that I could sit and watch him for hours, days —years.
    Deep sigh. It’s not just his physical presence either; it’s the way he holds himself, the way he takes over a room, the way he stands and walks. You get the picture, right? Okay, Alexia stop ogling—get a grip .
    I push my laptop toward him. “I don’t think I’ll be needing this,” I say with a bite.
    He closes his eyes and massages his temples.
    “Headache?” I say, trying my best to sound somewhat sympathetic.
    He drops his hands and opens his eyes. “You have no fucking idea.”
    “Yeah, you’re right, I haven’t a fucking clue. Care to enlighten me?” I say again, with a bit too much bite.
    He groans.
    “Sorry. It’s just…you had me escorted out of my department by security Jaxson. You had me escorted.” I point to myself when I say “me” the second time. I don’t have a clue as to why.
    “Jaxson, what’s going on? I don’t und…”
    His phone rings before I can finish. He fishes it out of his suit pocket.
    “Ryan.” He answers. “Okay. Yes. Thanks, Malinda.” He disconnects.
    That was short and to the point—who the hell is Malinda?
    “Do you trust me?” He asks while his eyes plead for a yes.
    “Jaxson, I don’t understand?”
    “Do you trust me?”

    “I don’t kno…”
    He slams his hand down on the glass table. I jump.
    “Do. You. Trust. Me.?” He annunciates through clenched teeth.
    Holy shit! What’s your problem? “I want to.” I squeak.
    He shrugs with disappointment.
    I wanted to be able to say yes, but trust is not something I hand out and he knows this.
    “Lex, I need you to trust me,” he pleads. “I need you to let things play out for a few minutes then I’ll explain.
    “I’ll try,” I whisper.

 
HOLY BEDROCK!
     
    There’s a sharp knock and I jump. The door opens and a stout man sporting a prominent square head and body marches in. He plops a briefcase on the table then drops down next to Jaxson. I blink. Holy Bedrock! It’s Fred Flintstone in the flesh. Wilma!
    He flips his case open and extracts a warehouse–sized bottle of hand sanitizer. You know, the huge bottle that’s taking up valuable space in your linen closet or under your bathroom sink. The one that you just can’t get yourself to man up and just throw it out.
    He squirts a glob on each palm then rubs them together. He returns the sanitizer and retrieves the following items. Laptop, several files, two legal pads, three pens, one pencil, a stapler, Altoid mints, eye glasses, bottle of