The Love Triangle (BWWM Romance) (9 page)

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Authors: Violet Jackson,Interracial Love

BOOK: The Love Triangle (BWWM Romance)
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Margaret popped her head in. She was one of the two secretaries and she’d been there the longest.

 

“Oh, I thought you’d all left, dear,” she said and smiled. “I thought it was a good meeting.”

 

“It was,” I said. “Elijah doesn’t think I’m up to scratch though.”

 

Margaret smiled like she felt sorry for me and walked to me, sitting down on the chair Elijah had vacated.

 

“Now, you don’t worry about that. Mr. Wilson is a hard boss to work for, but working here will get you anywhere else in life you want to be. He’s as a good a reference as they come. If you can just hold it out with his tyranny for a year or more, you’ll be made for the rest of his life.”

 

I looked down at my paperwork and sighed.

 

“Don’t look so down, dear. I promise you it won’t get worse. He likes you, I can tell. He can really be mean if he wants to be, but the worst you can get here is losing your job. That’s what this business is all about. Keeping those that do good, and getting rid of the ones who don’t. I’ve seen a lot of lawyers pass through and you’re doing just fine. You’ve been here now for what, three months? Nine more and you can pack your bags and leave Mr. Wilson, master of his own little universe, behind.”

 

It was sweet of her; Margaret tried to look out for me. She was the motherly type, but she worked hard all the same. If anyone knew Elijah, it was her. But what she didn’t know was that I didn’t want to just stay here for one year and then leave. I didn’t want to leave Elijah behind and be set for life. I wanted him to be proud of me. I wanted him to like me, because I liked him. I wanted whatever it was that was starting to happen between us go further, because I liked what I saw when we weren’t in the office.

 

Margaret patted my hand and smiled at me.

 

“You go on out and take your lunch. Make it a long one, too. Mr. Wilson will be in a meeting until four. If you’re back by then, he won’t even know you’re gone.”

 

“I won’t be more than an hour,” I said, and thanked her for helping me through this. I collected my papers together and put them in the leather briefcase I carried, and left the office, left the building, left my work behind for a little bit.

 

I stopped at the café and ordered a coffee to go and a sandwich from the deli, and got in my car and started driving. I would drive for half an hour, and then turn around and come back. I just needed space. I needed distance. I needed to clear my head.

 

I drove for longer than half an hour. I had to admit to that. When I saw the signs that indicated the interstate, I knew I’d gone too far. I pulled off on the side of the road and waited for the truck behind me to pass before I turned around with a big curve.

 

I drove for three minutes when the car sounded different. Wrong. I pulled over again and got out. The back tire on the passenger side was flat. And I didn’t know how to change a tire. I found my purse and rummaged for my cell phone. After I’d dumped all the contents on my seat and I still hadn’t found it, I backtracked, and remembered I left it in my office before the meeting.

 

Great. I was stuck in the middle of nowhere, with the sun beating down and miles of road in both directions. And not a single car. Not after the truck I’d let past. I cursed and leaned against the hood of the car. I could wait. Someone was bound to come along.

 

An hour later, I was still alone. The trees on the horizon in the distance danced with the distortion of the heat waves. I’d gotten rid of my suit jacket and my high heels, and I sat turned in my seat with my stocking feet out my car door. I’d nibbled on the crusts of my sandwich and torn up the plastic coffee cup. I’d polished the scuff marks off my heels with the inside of my jacket. The radio was on and I hummed to a tune that topped the charts three years ago.

 

“Are you alright, ma’am?” someone suddenly asked just behind me and I jumped. I whipped my head around. A cowboy stood in front of me looking like he’d escaped from a movie. He had loose stringy hair that hung to his shoulders, and a brown leather hat on his head. He wore a sleeveless gray shirt and jeans with those brown leather pants that the cowboys wore over it.

 

And he held the reins to a black horse.

 

“I’m okay,” I said. His eyes were electric blue and amused.

 

“You have a flat tire,” he said again. I nodded.

 

“I know. I can’t change it and I don’t have anyone to call. I forgot my phone.”

 

The horse behind him nibbled on the short grass next to the road. He looked around us in both directions of the road.

 

“Can I have a look at it for you?” he asked.

 

“Do you know how?”

 

He pulled a face at me. “Just because I’m here on a horse doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about cars,” he said. “This isn’t eighteen-fifty.”

 

I was offended immediately. “I was just asking a question,” I said.

 

He shrugged and gave me the reins. “Hold this,” he said. I looked down at the strips of leather and then at the horse grazing happily. The cowboy had already gone around the car to look at the wheel.

 

“Looks like a puncture,” he said. “But you’re going to have to change it. The closest gas station is Fort Atkinson and that’s some distance away from here. You’re not going to make it on your rims without doing serious damage.”

 

“I know,” I said. I was irritated. Did he think I was an idiot?

 

“I’ll change it for you,” he said and walked around to the trunk. “You have everything you need?”

 

“I don’t know,” I said. I’d never had a flat before without a gas station nearby. This was what happened when you didn’t live in the big city. He opened the trunk and whistled through his teeth. I had boxes and boxes of files back there. My car was my office when I didn’t have one.

 

“I’m going to have to unload all of these before I can get to your spare,” he said. He started lifting the boxes out one by one before I could say anything. I watched his arms. They were strong and defined, and I could see the muscle ripple underneath his skin when he flexed to lift the weight of the box out of the trunk. His skin was a deep tan, like he spent all his time in the sun. He looked up at me. My stomach lurched, and I flushed, embarrassed for being caught looking.

 

Only the one corner of his mouth hiked up in an unbalanced smile, and he pulled the bottom of the trunk out.

 

He changed the tire in ten minutes and then loaded the flat and the boxes back into the car.

 

“You’re gonna want to get that puncture fixed so you have a reliable spare again. Pretty lady like you doesn’t want to get stuck in the desert again.”

 

“Thanks,” I said, and I wasn’t sure what I was thanking him for, fixing my tire, giving me advice or calling me pretty. Maybe all three.

 

“Are you wanted anywhere, or can you come to the ranch for a drink?” he asked. The question was so forward I didn’t know what to say.

 

“I’m not asking you out on a date or anything,” he said and I flushed again. “You just look like you’ve been here for a while, and I see you’ve gone through your fluids.” He nodded at the sad heap of plastic shreds, what was left of my coffee cup. “It’s just up the road, in that direction.”

 

He pointed toward Fort Atkinson. I didn’t remember driving past a ranch, but I hadn’t really been paying attention.

 

“Right,” I said. “That would be nice.”

 

“You can follow me,” he said and pulled himself up the horse and onto its back. The horse was suddenly alert, ears forward. He clicked his tongue and the horse moved forward.

 

I got into the car and started it, following the cowboy on the black horse. Two miles down the road, he turned into a dirt road that led underneath a wooden arch. The words “Somerset Dude Ranch” were painted across the top. I’d heard of dude ranches but I’d never been to one. I didn’t see the point of people going to get dirty and live without luxuries if they could book a hotel and go to the beach instead.

 

The cowboy slid off the horse when I parked in front of the ranch house and handed the reins to younger boy that looked like that was his job.

 

“I’m Justin, by the way,” he said, holding out his hand. It was covered in black dust, no doubt from changing the tire, and shiny with sweat.

 

“Grace,” I said, just looking at his hand. “Davis.” I trailed my eyes over his upper body and back to his face. He smiled and wiped his hand on his jeans, not offended that I hadn’t shaken it at all.

 

“Justin Lane,” he said, like it was necessary to add his surname just because I had. We walked into the house. The kitchen was huge with a long table that could seat twenty people in the middle. Justin gave me a glass of orange juice and took out a beer for himself.

 

He smiled at me, a real smile that showed all his teeth and crinkled the skin around his eyes, and I liked him right away.

 

Chapter 10 - Elijah

I padded down the passage. I heard voices even before I saw her door, and I was on my guard immediately. It was too early for the nurse to be up, she didn’t do night duty anymore. Grace was really okay, the doctor just wanted to be sure with the nurse.

 

I was going to let her go soon, and then we could get back to our lives.

 

I stood just outside the door and held my breath, listening.

 

“I just don’t know what the hell is going on anymore,” I heard Grace’s voice. “I don’t know what to do. I remember what I feel for Elijah. I mean, up until the accident, I guess. But my heart is saying something else and I don’t know what it is.”

 

“Honey, you need to ease up. You’re too hard on yourself,” I heard another woman’s voice say. Tension leaked out of me and I physically felt myself relax. It was Shonda. I don’t know who I’d expected to be here, but I was fine with Shonda.

 

Every woman needed a good friend to take the edge off – women always needed to gossip about something – and I liked Shonda because she liked me. She put in a good word for me. That was enough for me, she could stay. Right now, Justin’s influence in her life was more than I was willing to accept. Grace seemed too vulnerable.

 

I stepped into the doorway and the girls fell silent. Grace was wearing a pink pajama set, short shorts that showed off her long legs and a top that showed almost too much skin. She used to wear that around me all the time, but now she pulled the covers closer to her, almost like she’d started to cover up and then stopped herself. Her uncertainty was foreign. It didn’t suit her, she was always such a confident woman. It was what had drawn me to her in the first place.

 

The bruise on her head looked a lot worse when she looked so troubled, a deep purple that stood out even on her dark skin. At least her lip had completely healed and the skin around her eye was so light now you had to really look to notice the bruise there. It made me feel better. I didn’t want to wince every time she looked at me.

 

I fought the urge to flinch. I wished she wouldn’t see me as the enemy.

 

“I just needed someone to talk to, I hope you don’t mind me letting Shonda in,” Grace said. I shook my head.

 

“Sweetheart, this is your home. You don’t have to ask permission to have guests here.”

 

There was a reaction when I said it, but I shrugged it off because Shonda smiled brilliantly at me.

 

“You see,” she said, patting Grace’s leg. “He knows this isn’t easy for you.”

 

I smiled at her. Bless her heart.

 

“Do you girls need anything?” I asked. They both said no. “Well, you just shout. I’m not leaving for the office for another hour.”

 

“Thanks,” Grace said and she smiled at me, and it was beautiful. It wasn’t guarded like it had been until now. Maybe there was a little bit of hope that I could still get her back. Maybe we just needed time, like the doctor had said. I turned and walked on, heading to my office. I stopped in the kitchen and poured coffee from the machine. The housekeeper switched it on at five so that I had my daily dose. 

 

I switched on my work cell phone. It started pinging with emails flooding in, messages left on my voicemail services, texts sent. I wished I could just turn it off and take the girls out for lunch. Spoil Grace a bit, buy her something nice to wear, buy her jewelry, show her what she meant to me.

 

I was on the verge of losing her the whole time, it felt like I was holding on with just my fingertips. I would be nice just to spend time for one day and get rid of the constant rush that kept taking her away from me.

 

I picked up my phone.

 

That was exactly what I was going to do. I phoned the office. Margaret answered. It was an hour and a half before the time she was supposed to be at the office. But she knew what it meant to work for me. There were others that still had to learn that.

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