Taking It All Read Free Page B

this in and out stuff... As I watch, my mind goes to a dirty, dirty place. And we're not talking about motor-oil-type dirty.
    When did I become such a nympho?
    My face goes hot. So do some other parts.
    “Was your car making any noises before it stalled?” He inspects the dipstick. “You have no oil.”
    The heat swirling through my body immediately evaporates. “No oil? What? How?!” Noise? He'd asked me if my car had been making any noises. But I don't know. I had the radio blaring. I hadn't heard a thing, outside of my fave band.
    Maybe if I had, I would have shut down the car before...
    Please, please tell me my car isn't dead.
    Before...
    Tell me it isn't what I think it is.
    “The engine's dry,” he tells me, confirming my worst fear. “Probably seized up. You'll need a new motor.”
    My knees give out and I have to latch onto the car to keep from falling to the ground.
    New.
    Motor.
    Little stars glitter in my vision.
    I don't have money for a new motor.
    “Hey, are you all right?” he asks. Strong arms sweep me off my feet and cradle me. I can't see a damn thing now. All I see are twinkling stars. I feel him carrying me. He's speaking, but his voice sounds funny. Distant.
    My car.
    It's dead.
    No money.
    Fuck!
    I can't take any more. I want to curl up in a corner and hide from the world.
    I blink and try to clear my vision. The stars are still obscuring most of it, but I can see we're going into the building.
    The receptionist at the front desk greets the man carrying me. “Sir! What's the matter? Should I call 9-1-1?”
    “No.” He stops at the elevator and hits the button with his elbow. “I'm sure Miss...Miss...?”
    “Stapley,” I say. “Jordan Stapley.”
    “Miss Stapley will be all right in a minute.”
    The elevator door rumbles open and in we go. On the way up my vision clears completely. Adrenaline starts pounding through my body.
    “I can stand now,” I tell him, wriggling.
    “Just wait until I can get you in a chair.”
    “Where are you taking me?” I look up at the numbers glowing above the elevator's door. The five glows. That's my floor.
    The elevator doesn't stop.
    Six.
    “My office,” he tells me.
    Seven.
    Eight.
    How high up the food chain is this guy?
    Nine.
    Holy shit!
    Ten. Top floor.
    The doors roll open and he steps into a wide, open space. A receptionist jumps from her seat and scurries up to us. “Mr. Parker, what happened? Can I get you anything?”
    Mr. Parker ?
    Did she just say Mr. Parker ?
    Grayson Parker?
    As in, the owner of Parker Enterprises?
    Now I'm in shock all over again.
    Holy shit! I flipped Grayson Parker the bird!
    “No. Thank you,” he says.
    Mr. Parker, the owner of Parker Enterprises—the boss of my boss—passes through a set of double doors into the biggest office I've ever seen.
    From the looks of it, his office takes up almost the whole freaking floor. Two sides—two!—boast floor-to-ceiling windows. On one end sits a massive wooden desk. At the opposite end is a seating area with two couches and several chairs. He unloads me into one of the chairs, kneeling after he sets me down.
    The bluest eyes I've ever seen search mine. “What can I get you? Water?” Before I can answer, he hops up, goes to the cabinet nearby and opens a door. It's a refrigerator, not a cabinet. He pours some cold water into a glass he collects from the cabinet next to it.
    “It's okay. No need to make a fuss. I was just a little...overwhelmed.” My face burns again.
    I'm so freaking embarrassed. I can't believe I've been such a bitch. I gave him an obscene gesture.
    And, ohmygod, I tried to hit him yesterday!
    Because he had a hard on.
    He got a hard on hugging me .
    That means the owner of Parker Enterprises...felt...?
    No. Couldn't be. It was probably just a physical reaction. It didn't mean anything.
    He's rich. Powerful.
    He must be married. Or at least in a serious relationship.
    “Here.” He hands me the glass, and the tips of our fingers brush. A little