“Now, Emma!” He growls my way and I realize this is futile, he won’t let me leave until I do. I take a
deep breath and stare at him, telling him in detail, as much as I can remember. He sits the whole time
in silence, jaw clenched and brows down in an angry glare, watching me intensely. I hate him looking at
me that way. I’m doubting myself, wondering if he’s thinking I’m being a drama queen. If he even
believes me or is wondering why I would assume Dan had done anything wrong.
When I’m done, he pulls out his cell and barks orders at some poor soul, issuing marching orders on
grounds of sexual harassment. He stills while they explain something to him on the other end of the
line.
“Then set it up … Him, you and whatever legal team representatives are available, first thing … Offer
him severance. I don’t give a shit! … I want him gone! No one lays a hand on any woman in this
company without consequence … There’s footage from the elevator CCTV, I’ll deal with security
myself.” He snaps the commands, eyes fixated on my face, showing contained rage.
There’s a rise of pride within me as I watch him on the cell, that surge of love I always felt around him.
Mr. Commanding “don’t mess with me” Carrero … Scary as shit boss.
One thing that surprised me when I first encountered him, was how passionately he seemed to stand
up for women, their rights and giving them respect in the workplace. I guess his relationship with his
mother has a lot to do with how he is. It’s one of the reasons I trust him so fully. I know he’s probably
one of the few men in this building I am safe around, despite his playboy, womanizing, status.
“No. The woman in question will not be there … I will … on her behalf.” He’s still angry, shouting down
his cell to whoever was unlucky enough to have a direct line to Jake.
“Call me back when it’s set up … No matter what time … I’ll clear my schedule … Yes … Goodbye.” He
hangs up his cell, his mouth held in a tight line.
“I’m taking you home.” It’s a command, not a question and I know there’s little point arguing with him
when he’s in battle mode. After the lift scene, I don’t fancy walking to the station alone anyway. I’m
shaken but all I can do is nod and look away unsurely. I sense him move close to me so he’s almost
touching my knees with his legs.
“Are you okay?” His voice is so soft and gentle I’m forced to glance up. He’s holding out a hand to me
and I accept as he pulls me to my feet. Slowly, he wraps one arm around my shoulders, pulling me
against him and gives me a soothing hug, like Jake of old. His chin rests against my temple, letting all
the tension seep out of me.
This is the Jake I miss the most, the friend that he always was. This is the Jake who rips out my heart
whenever he shows face.
I miss you so much!
“I’m fine.” I sigh, trying not to sag against him, or react to his body against mine. The two of us stand
embraced, but it’s awkward and tense; nothing like our hugs of the past. He releases me, searching my
face for a hint of untruth, but sees nothing. I’m so beyond used to men behaving that way toward me
that I’m no longer affected by it as I should be; a sad fact.
“Come on, my car’s in the garage.” He takes my arm and guides me out of the small room, keeping me
close beside his warmth and heads for the elevators once again.
Once inside the atmosphere becomes strained, neither of us knowing what to say or how to behave.
He lets me go and moves away, giving me some space and I wonder if it’s because of Gabrielle. If
maybe he doesn’t want to make me feel uncomfortable, enclosed in a small space with him, not that he
ever would. Thankfully, the trip to the ground floor garage is short.
He leads me to his car, something he rarely uses when coming to work. It’s a low, sleek, and powerful
sports McLaren P1. His baby. Yet, I’ve never seen it, or seen him in it, let alone drive it around New
York. He’s mentioned it many times before and I know it cost him over a million dollars and I’m stunned
by just how seductive it is. It’s jet black and looks almost sinister, sat in his personal parking space, like
a shadowy bat-mobile in the corner, shiny and purring at him from afar. The car is the epitome of
sexiness and I can’t help but get a little stir of internal heat at how it looks.
Figures that his car would scream with as much sex appeal as he does …
This garage is only used by the higher paid execs and has a full-time security post wandering around,
gated entrance, and a hoard of CCTV cameras, making it feel like Fort Knox. I follow him as the car
beeps in response to our approach, signaling it’s unlocking. I walk to the passenger side as he touches
the handle and lifts the car door up toward the sky to let me into the molded seats and high-tech
interior. He then pushes the door down, concealing me behind the tinted windows before gliding round
to the driver’s side, getting in smoothly.
This car just screams Jake, from every pore; something about its relaxed coolness, sleek sportiness,
and intimidating shape. He presses a button by the steering wheel, and it roars into life, sounding like
an expensive jet plane, purring with vibrations as he hits the gas. The interior lights up from a display in
front of us, whirring and electrical noises from the rear as a tail fin comes up from the smooth sleek flat
back. It’s hard not to feel a rush of excitement with this car.
“I like your car.” I smile his way, seriously impressed. It feels like I’m sitting in a Formula One dream
machine and even though I’ve never been interested in vehicles of any sort, I can’t help but feel like
this one is special.
“I like my car too.” He grins over to me like a boy with his favorite toy, all bad moods lifted at being re-
united with it. He reverses out of the space, expertly in control of his beast and head outs of the
underground park, waving to the men who lift the barrier to let us out. The tunnel exit is lit by ground
lights guiding us to the outside traffic, giving it a sense of driving out of some concealed spaceship into
the air above. The loudest, roaring machine I’ve ever heard. I can sense the way we’re sticking to the
road as it moves effortlessly out into traffic. It just adds to the excitement of feeling like I’m sitting next
to Bruce Wayne.
“Why do you never drive it? I’ve heard about it, but this is the first time I’ve actually seen it?” I blink
around in the dark interior, like the co-pilot in a private airplane.
“I only got it back a couple of weeks ago, it’s been away for months, having adjustments to my specs. I
also had the color changed … it used to be bright orange.” He’s keeping both eyes on the road, driving
carefully as we hit traffic. The engine’s louder than I expected in the open air and I can hear a whizzing
wheeze of a turbo. This car is sex on wheels that makes my adrenaline rise with its vibrancy around
me.
“Black is more your color.” I smile at him, awed by how good he looks sitting in the pilot seat of this
monster, effortlessly taking control of something so powerful. He belongs in a car like this.
“So, is this the reason you learned to drive with Formula One favorites?” I tease. “So, you can drive
your own ridiculously expensive car?”
“No. I bought the car after many years of lessons, and a lot of research … This baby is a car made for
people who can actually drive.” He flashes me his because I can grin, and I shake my head. His ego
untainted by his latest admission.
“Seems like a waste for the streets of New York.”
“I have it transported every so often to my family’s home in Italy … They have amazing tracks over
there to give this girl a run for her money.” He swells with pride, patting the dash, and smiles at the dark
interior, stopping at a red light. The car drops into purring mode, reducing the noise greatly.
“Girl? Please tell me you haven’t named her?” I laugh at him, but he looks my way with a shocked
expression.
“That’s sacrilege! Of course, you must name your baby. She’s my girl!” He rubs the dash again and
croons a little as though soothing an offended woman. “She’s called Miss. Anderson!” He winks at me
with a grin, receiving a sigh and a shake of my head in return.
“Of course, she is!” I look out the window, away from his smile and cheeky expression. Ordinarily I
would give anything to have the casual humor between us back, but this, normalcy, hurts.
“You doubt it? She’s stubborn, fast paced, and fiery. Miss. Anderson made perfect sense.” He shoves
my shoulder lightly with his fingertips as if to prove the point. I frown and shove him back with a
haughty pout.
“Actually, now you mention it, seems like it should be called Jacob. It suits you.” I smile and look away
triumphantly.
“Thin ice, Anderson!” He throws me a warning look steeped in humor. He despises his birth name with
a passion, so, of course, I use it to tease him.
“Like I care. I spend my entire life walking on it when it comes to you.” I stick my tongue out at him and
he just pushes my face childishly, his palm squishing my nose for a second. I muffle a, “Hey” and pull
his hand from my face.
“Jerk.”
“Diva.”
We smile at each other for a second, then tense, drop our hands, looking forward simultaneously out
the windscreen as though suddenly realizing this isn’t right anymore. Funny how we’d forgotten for a
moment, only to come crashing back to reality and then silence. Jake seems to mull over something
before breaking the tension.
“How’ve you been, Emma?” He glances back at me, then concentrates on the road, watching for the
lights to change. I shrug awkwardly, heart rate elevating at the sudden seriousness in him.
How can I be honest and tell him I’ve been dying inside since he made me walk away? That this
situation just highlights how much I miss him, and us.
“Okay, I guess.” I can’t look at him. I can feel his eyes on me, then the car bursts into a roar again and
we’re moving. I don’t think Jake has ever driven me home himself before, this feels too intimate
somehow, just the two of us.
“I’ve missed you,” he says, so honestly, I can’t help but glance at him. His eyes on the road. His
handsome profile showing no hints of emotion. Just honesty.
“I’ve missed you too.” I sigh. Our eyes meet for a millisecond then we both look away, tension rises
fast, cracking in the air. He tenses his jaw, looking as though he wants to say something but bites it
back turning his eyes to the road. I can’t say a word, I don’t know what to say, conversation is harder
than I imagined it ever would be, especially when all I want to do is crawl into his lap and be enveloped
by every part of him.
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