Wrong for You (Before You #3)(5)



Flinging open her ancient file cabinet, she pulled out a volunteer application. Alec thought he wanted to volunteer at the Foundation, and despite her better judgment, she would take anything he could give. She couldn’t be choosy, not when the Foundation didn’t have any money and even fewer resources.

As she walked out the door of her office, she snatched a pen off her desk, chuckling when she noticed it was her favorite purple pen. She loved purple. With a name like Violet, it was to be expected. As a kid, people made fun of her name. In no uncertain terms, her mother told her to suck it up and embrace it. She did. It became her signature color.

“Mr. Reed,” she called out as she walked back into the gym, her heels clicking rhythmically over the worn hardwood floor. The gym had seen better days just like everything else in the building.

His ear to the phone, Alec shook his head and held up a finger before turning his back to her.

“Yeah, I’ll make it back in time.” His free hand delved into his hair, lightly tugging at the roots. Her fingers wiggled of their own volition, desperately wanting to feel the texture of his thick dark hair. Men shouldn't have hair like that—thick, full of body, shine and pleading to be touched. It wasn’t fair. “Got it. Just fax what I need and I’ll take care of the rest," he barked into the phone.

“Violet,” Alec said, pivoting toward her. “What’s the fax number here?”

“It’s on the top,” she said, handing him the application.

His eyes scanned the application and then he turned his face away from her again as he read the number to the person on the phone. “And don’t tell anyone where I am. I don’t want Taylor to find out and feel like she needs to come here and be my sidekick. She doesn’t need to run into Cecilia.” He paused, tapping his fingers on the inside of his leg to an imaginary beat. “Or anyone else for that matter.”

After he disconnected the call, he stood up and slipped his phone into his front pocket.

“The references should be here within the next hour.”

She didn’t say anything for a few moments as she took in his conversation. Who was he hiding from and why? “Who’s Taylor?” she asked before she could stop herself. Almost involuntarily, her eyes drifted to his left hand, scanning it for a wedding ring. Regrettably, it didn’t offer any answers. Every single one of his long fingers had a thick, chunky ring.

When she glanced at him, he raised one dark brow in amusement and his lips curved up ever so slightly, so that if she hadn’t been watching him closely, she would’ve missed it. “Is that an official or unofficial question?”

Heat climbed up her neck to her cheeks blatantly, announcing her embarrassment just as efficiently as if she had screamed it through a megaphone. It was one of the things she hated about her fair skin and fair hair. Her eyes vaulted around the room as her mind scrambled for something to say. “I just don’t like volunteers bringing their personal life to work with them and if you’re hiding from your wife…or something like that, it could cause some problems and we have enough drama at the Foundation without adding yours to it.”

His lips twitched as if he were valiantly trying to hold back a smile. “No wife, no girlfriend.” He rubbed his hands together, his rings making a loud clanging sound as she witnessed his eyes cloud over and become completely unreadable. “I’m not the commitment type.”

Warning accepted, not that she needed it. She wasn’t attracted to this man. No way, and even if she were, she didn’t need a relationship right now. She barely had time to pee much less date. As evidenced by her recent breakup with Eric, all of her attempts at dating failed and she accepted all of the blame without hesitation. “Good to know.” She didn’t want to be another one of his conquests and she’d bet her paltry bank account that he had already racked up more than his fair share in his short life. She cleared her throat. “Well, I have to make some phone calls this morning.”

“Can you recommend a hotel nearby?”

“Are you planning to stay in a hotel for the entire month?” That had to be expensive, not that she knew what he could afford. Despite the tattoos and his ripped jeans, she didn’t get the impression that he was destitute.

“Do you have any other suggestions?”

“I have a basement apartment at my house.” He started shaking his head. “It has a separate locked entrance. It’s vacant now.”

“I don’t know.”

Now that she mentioned it, she realized it was a great idea. Better than great, it was absolutely brilliant. It would alleviate her cash flow issues for the month and she’d actually be able to afford groceries or groceries that included something other than bread and peanut butter. “Look, as long as you can pay me some rent, you’d be doing me a favor.”

He sucked his lip ring into his mouth again and she wished he’d stop doing it. It was really distracting. “How much do you want?”

She mentally calculated four weeks of groceries, a couple miscellaneous bills she’d been juggling for the past three months or so. “How about eight hundred dollars?”

He didn’t respond immediately and she thought she might have overreached. The apartment was worth it. She had rented it for a thousand dollars the last time she advertised it, but that tenant had driven her crazy with late night parties and visitors. The day after someone overdosed in the apartment at some crazy party, she posted an eviction notice on the door and she hadn’t tried to rent it again. For some reason, she could only find college students interested in the place and even though she wasn’t much older than them, she felt like a grandma in comparison. She’d never taken advantage of college life the way most kids did. She was too focused on the end goal of helping troubled teens to have an active social life. Sadly, that still hadn’t changed.

Lisa Cardiff's Books