Apparently I’d decided on a new path to exit the office these days.
Even though I’d been leaving the same way every night for the last eight years—turning left out of my office, right down the long hallway, and straight out the main entrance—now I automatically go right, then left, then right, and weave around cubicles like a rat in a maze to work my way to the front door. It takes twice as long, and I’d never admit that I took the extra steps to pass Charlotte’s office, yet there was an unwelcome disappointment inside of me when I saw that her door was already closed tonight.
Grandmother’s office was located only a few doors down from Charlotte’s, and she walked out carrying her coat just as I passed.
“Oh. Reed. I didn’t realize you were still here. I stopped by before, but your light was off.”
“I had an appointment downtown but stopped back in to grab some files for my morning showing. Did you need something?”
“Umm. Yes, actually. Do you remember my friend Helen?”
“Bradbury?”
“Yes.”
“Well, her grandson has recently taken up rock climbing, and apparently he’s bought some second-rate gear. His eighteenth birthday is coming up next week, and you know Helen, she’s having a party that is bigger than most weddings. I thought it would be nice if I purchased him some new gear as a gift. I’m sure it would put Helen’s mind at ease, too. Only . . . I have no idea what to buy.”
“I can help pick some things out. Why don’t I show you some sites online tomorrow when I get back in the afternoon, and we can order stuff for next week.”
“Oh. Did I say next week? I meant tomorrow. The party is tomorrow.”
I squinted. “The big party is on a weekday?”
“Umm . . . yes. Helen is a stickler about having a party on an actual birthday. Anyway, I looked up local places, and there’s a store that sells top-of-the-line gear over on Sixty-Second Street—it’s sort of on your way home.”
I nodded. “Extreme Climb. I know the place. They hold climbing classes and arrange group trips, too.”
Grandmother smiled and pointed a finger at me. “That’s the one.” She looked at her watch. “It’s already almost seven, and I have an appointment downtown at eight o’clock. The store closes at nine. I’m worried I won’t make it. Could I trouble you to pop in and pick out a helmet for me on the way home tonight?”
“Sure. No problem. I’ll grab something and bring it to the office tomorrow.”
She hugged me. “You’re a doll. And if you happen to see anything of interest while you’re there, you should pick it up, too.”
“Umm. Okay.”
“Have a wonderful evening, Reed.”
“You, too.”
Extreme Climb hadn’t changed much in the two years that I’d been absent. The megagym concentrated more on indoor rock-climbing classes than on gear sales, and even though they had more than ten thousand craggy square feet and three training walls, one reaching forty feet, the place was always packed.
The guy at the front desk remembered me. I’d done a few of their climbing trips when I’d first started out.
“Eastwood, right?”
We shook. “Good memory. Unfortunately, mine’s not as sharp.”
He smiled. “No problem. It’s Joe. Haven’t seen you around in a long time. Injury?”
“Nah. Just took a break.”
“Back for a refresher lesson? It’s beginner night. You probably don’t want to hit the twenty-five-foot wall with them. But the back climber is open if you want. I can get one of the guys to spot you.”
“Maybe another night. I just stopped in to pick up a helmet for a gift.”
“We just got the new Petzl Trios helmet in today in flat black.” He whistled. “The thing is sweet. It’s not out for display yet, but I can grab you one to check out if you want.”
“Yeah. That’d be great.”
“Give me a few minutes. If you want to amuse yourself in the meantime, go watch the beginner class. We have a few that strapped the helmet on backward. Should be fun to watch.”
I chuckled. “Maybe I’ll do that.”
When Joe disappeared, I wandered around. Seeing everyone climbing up walls, or excited for their first attempt, made me remember how much I used to love the sport. Maybe I should give it a shot again.
A bunch of guys were gathered at the beginner’s wall, looking up while a woman climbed. She was almost to the top of the short wall, about twenty feet up the twenty-five-foot climb, and wore hot-pink shorts that displayed a heart-shaped rear from the bottom. I’d thought that was the cause for the giant smiles they wore. Until I heard the moan.
Each time the woman climber reached for the next peg, she let out a sound that was an odd hybrid of whimper, moan, and sigh. Sort of like Venus Williams in a tennis match, except way fucking sexier. Clearly it wasn’t intentional, because the woman was stretching and trying her hardest to get to the top. But that didn’t make the sound any less sensual. She reached again, and the sultry moan shot straight down to my dick. Damn. It’d been a long time since I’d heard that sound. Too long. For some reason, it made my brain think of Charlotte. I bet she’d make some great sounds in the sack and was pretty damn uninhibited, too. All that pent-up crazy probably translated into one hell of a firecracker in bed.
The woman managed to scale a few more feet and grab on to the top climbing holds with one last, loud moan. She stretched high and rang the bell at the top. The group of guys ogling a few feet away clapped and hooted. The tallest of the group said, “Damn. I’m gonna ask her out. I bet she sounds as good under me as she does overhead.” Even though I was no better than him—standing there staring at the woman’s ass while thinking about what another woman might sound like in bed—the guy’s comment pissed me off.
My attention was diverted back to the climber when she shrieked a resounding woo-hoo and flailed her arms in the air like she’d just scaled Mount Everest.
That voice.
Oh no.
Shit.
It couldn’t be . . .
The woman cheered once again.
But it was . . .
I’d know that scream anywhere.
She started to make her way down. I watched in amazement, still unable to believe it was her.
“Charlotte?” My voice was louder than I’d intended, practically echoing.
She turned to look at me, pausing for a moment to catch her breath before she completely lost her focus and landed in a twisted position.
“Ow . . . ow!”
Shit!
I rushed over to her, then knelt down. “Are you okay?”
She looked up at me in a daze, her blue eyes glistening.
God, she’s beautiful. Even when she is a mess.
“What . . . what are you doing here?”
“Can you move your leg?”
“It’s my ankle and foot mostly. But everything hurts.”
A couple of employees surrounded us. “Do you need assistance?”
She held out her hand. “No, I’ll be fine.”
“We can call an ambulance. Are you sure?” one of them asked.
“Yes.” She turned to me. “You didn’t answer me. What are you doing here?”
Why was she so concerned with that when she could barely move?
“Is that really relevant? Iris sent me here to run an errand for her.”
“That’s strange. I mentioned to her that I was coming here. Why didn’t she just ask me?”
I have my theories.
When she tried to move her ankle again, she cringed. “Ow.”
“We’d better get you checked out. I’ll drive you to the hospital. Can you stand?”
Blowing out a breath, she said, “Let’s find out.”
Offering her my hand, I helped her up slowly.
Charlotte immediately winced when she tried walking. “This is not good.” She leaned on me as she limped.
I had her wait for me at the entrance while I went to retrieve my car.
Helping her into the vehicle, I said, “I’m surprised you lost control so easily. I was watching you before it happened—before I realized it was you. Your balance was pretty impressive.”
“Well, if I’d known you were watching me, I’m sure my concentration would have suffered. And I lost control because you freaked me out when you called my name. You weren’t supposed to be there.”
I walked around to the driver’s seat, then said, “You might want to consider wearing something less revealing. You had quite the cheering squad of men admiring your little hot pants.”
“Were you one of them?” She cocked her brow, then moved her seat back before kicking her leg up on my dash.
Hell yes, I was . . .
I refused to acknowledge her question.
She laughed. “The answer is in your silence, Eastwood.”
Weaving in and out of traffic, I said, “I’m your boss, Charlotte. All I would need to do is tell you I was admiring you in that way, and you could go after me for sexual harassment.”
“I would never do that to you—ever.”
I believed her. Charlotte wasn’t trying to trap me. She wasn’t an opportunist, either. Sometimes I wish she were, so I could find some kind of real fault in her.
Keeping my eyes on the road was always a challenge with Charlotte in the car.
I glanced over at her. “Rock climbing, huh? Right after I told you I rock climbed? Original. I see your stalkerish tendencies are still in full effect. You mean to tell me this was a coincidence?”
“Not at all. You gave me the idea. I have no problem admitting that. I figured if you liked it, it must be worthwhile, since there’s so little you seem to enjoy.”
I chuckled. “What are you basing that opinion on?”
“You work long days and then you go home. There’s little room for anything else.”
“How do you know what I do after I go home at night?”
“Well, I’m privy to your entire schedule for the most part. I’m assuming there’s not a lot of time for extracurricular activities based on your hours. You work a lot of weekend showings, too.”
“If I wanted to get something past you, I would, Darling.”
“Darling as in my last name, with a big D not a little d, right? That’s okay, I like big Ds.”
She did not just say that.
I bet you do, Charlotte. And in another life, maybe I’d give it to you.
