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Authors: Nicole Andrews Moore

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BOOK: Hiding Out
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Earlier at Saks she had been so certain of her choice, so confident in her purchase, but now having to face him and stand up to his criticism, she suddenly felt very nervous.  Slowly, she passed him the dry cleaning receipt and his credit card, both of which he grabbed with unconcealed disgust.

             

“The shirt, Miss Iverson.”  He held his hand out.

             

Haley sighed, tried to think of some explanation to give while she awaited his response and finally ended by simply shoving it into his hand and mumbling, “Here.”

             

Checking the size first, Samuel then pulled the shirt on and began buttoning it briskly.  He straightened his cuffs, reached for the tie she offered, and knotted it around his neck.  At last, he opened a door in the wall, which had a full length mirror affixed to the backside.  “Hmm,” he began, “it’s not what I would have chosen.”

             

“I know,” Haley said dejectedly.  She had only been there a short time, but she had quickly discovered that his taste in clothes ran somewhere along the lines of conservative to Amish.

             

“This is…”  He struggled to find the appropriate word.

             

“Stylish, bold, sophisticated?”  She suggested hopefully.

             

“I was thinking more like…loud.”  The corners of his mouth hinted at a smile.

             

“I give up,” she said with obvious irritation.  “You know where to find me.”  She turned to storm out of the room, but Samuel grabbed her wrist.  Instantly she froze.

             

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

             

She merely nodded and rushed out.

 

             

He raised his eyes to the heavens when the door closed behind her.  What had he done?  One second he was lost in the moment with her, enjoying their playful banter, the next she stiffened up and raced from the room.  Trying to focus again on the advertising campaign sitting on his desk, he stared at the mock ups of commercial storyboards.  It was no use. 
I can feel I’m going to regret this
, he thought.  And then, without wasting another minute he headed for the door.  He had to talk to her and find out why she hated working for him so much. 

             

For some reason, he wasn’t paying attention, wasn’t looking where he was going.  And that’s why he stumbled right into the chair she was standing on while tending to some plants on the ledge above the filing cabinets.  Instantly, she was knocked off balance, teetering on those silly stiletto heels, and ultimately careening backwards.  What was he supposed to do?  Let her fall?  Instead, he caught her.  It wasn’t difficult really, especially once he discovered that there actually was very little to her under that voluminous dress.

             

Haley laid there trembling in his arms.  At first he supposed it was a result of her near accident, but then he wondered if it might not be him.  Samuel’s first instinct was to hug her close, hold her tightly until the trembling faded and she realized she was safe, but he knew somehow that would only make it worse.  Finally, she began to wriggle, trying to free herself from his grasp.

             

“Hold on,” he said quietly.  “Let me help you up.”  He circled his hands around her tiny waist, noting that they very nearly touched, and placed her upright on the chair once more.

             

“Thank you,” she mumbled a bit breathlessly, which had the most unnerving effect on him.  She turned her concentration to the plants, but he couldn’t let her get away that easily.

             

“Is it me?”  He asked in a low voice, trying not to attract attention in the once again crowded office.

             

Taking a deep breath and exhaling very slowly to steady her nerves, she said seriously, “No, it’s not you.”  She stood there on the chair, looking down at him, from nearly a foot above his eye level.  She knew that he wasn’t ready to be finished with the conversation.  She expected he would press for more answers and she wasn’t sure how many she was willing to give up yet.

             

“Have you always been this timid?”  He wore a look of genuine concern.

             

She gave a hollow laugh.  “No, this character flaw developed rather recently.”

             

Fighting the urge to prod more, he raised his hands in a helpless manner.  Samuel started to return to his office, then thought better of it and headed down the hall with a sense of purpose. 

             

Dr. Erikson’s office was on the same floor as the rest of the executives.  When the firm took a new approach to advertising a few years back and decided to explore the psychological impacts of their strategies, Erikson made the short list of professionals to be brought in for the job.  He had stayed on after the success of the very first campaign he contributed to and found that his qualifications made him ideal for any number of necessary tasks around the office, not the least of which was monitoring the mental health of all the employees.

             

Knocking once and entering before the doctor gave a response was typical of Samuel, and today was no different.  “Mr. Davenport,” Dr. Erikson greeted him without even looking up.

             

“How ever did you know?”  Samuel joked.

             

“Business or pleasure?”  The man asked laying his pen down on his desk and giving Samuel his full attention.

             

“Business, I think.”  He smiled sheepishly.

             

“Now I’m fascinated.  It must be a woman.”  He leaned forward awaiting a response.

             

Samuel cleared his throat.  He would have been annoyed, but this man, a long time friend of his father, knew him better than most people did.  “It’s my temp,” he began.  “I need some insight into her personality.”  He sat down across the desk and waited.

             

“Okay.  You want a profile?  Give me some details.”  He picked up the pen once more and started playing with it, his thinking stance.

             

“She is ridiculously timid.  It has been driving me crazy.  Sometimes she seems fine, playful even, but she jumps at every door opening.”  His thoughts were disorganized as he shared his concerns.  “She wears enormous clothes.”

             

He was poised to continue, but Erikson interrupted him.  “Big?”

             

“Yeah, gargantuan.  She fell into my arms today…”  Erikson’s eyebrows raised and Samuel shook his head.  “And I realized she’s tiny.”  He put his hands together to demonstrate her small waist.

             

“Anything else?”  He seemed to be on the verge of making his analysis.

             

“Freezes every time she’s touched…trembles even.  I asked her if it was me.  I mean, I know I can be perceived as scary.  I just want to be sensitive to her if there’s something more to it.”  He stopped and awaited the reaction.

             

“Sensitive?  You?  Wow.  You must really like this woman.”  He smiled warmly.

             

“Let’s just say I find her intriguing,” he admitted slowly.

             

“Well, I’d speculate, and realize that this is without having met her, that she’s been attacked, possibly even raped.”  He said it abruptly and without feeling then leaned back in his chair.

             

Samuel sucked in a good deal of air.  “What makes you say that?”  He asked quietly.

             

“First of all, she wears big clothes.  It could be that she lost a bunch of weight and hasn’t had time or money to replace her wardrobe.  She is, after all, a temp.  Yet, most women, even highly practical women, care about their public appearance.  She is no different, but she has taken it to the extreme.  She is so aware of how others see her that she hides it.  Someone hurt her, took advantage of her, and undoubtedly sexually assaulted her.  She can’t stand to be touched, it scares her, possibly even reminds her of that terrible experience.  Do you want me to continue?” 

             

Samuel had his head in his hands.  “No.  No.  You may be right.”  He looked up at the doctor, suddenly very tired.  “What do I do?”

             

“I don’t understand the question.  If you are asking if you should say anything to her, confront her, I wouldn’t.  She needs to feel safe and then she will trust you in time.  If you are asking about therapy, my door is always open.  If it is verification you want, have the agency’s private investigator work on it.”  Dr. Erikson paused, watching for a reaction.  “Did I hit on what you meant yet?”  He waited for a response.

             

With his mind reeling, he said quietly, “Yeah.  Thanks.”

             

             

Samuel decided to make one more stop on his way back to his office.  He certainly couldn’t have the private investigator show up there.  Again, he announced himself. 

 

Jake Ryan rose to shake his hand immediately.  “What’s up, buddy?”  He said with enthusiasm.  “Got another case for me?”  Jake was an old prep school friend.  He was the black sheep who refused a college education and opted instead for a blue collar job that he felt to be heroic, but was nearly the death of his mother.  Despite receiving numerous commendations, a medal from the mayor, and making the fast track to detective, Jake was a huge disappointment to his parents.  It was only when he took early retirement from the force and put his skills to use in the private sector that he was finally accepted back into the fold.

             

“I need you to research my new assistant,” Samuel said slowly.  “I think she’s been hurt the past.  And I want to know
all
about it.  I also need to know where she’s living, her lifestyle, how she spends her time…” He let his voice trail off so that Jake could fill in the blanks.

             

“Sure,” he said enthusiastically.  “And I’ll be discreet.”

             

“Definitely.  You’ll need to use my direct line on this,” he reminded him.

             

And with another handshake, he was headed back into his office.  Dr. Erikson’s words were repeating in his head. 
Make her feel safe.
  Samuel gingerly opened the outer door and was greeted this time by a shy smile that warmed him.  “I’m back,” he said.

             

Haley bit her cheek to stifle a laugh.  “So it would appear.”

             

He grew faintly pink about the ears.  For reasons he couldn’t even understand, he wanted to spend more time with this woman.  Pausing in front of her desk, but trying to maintain awareness of her personal space, he said, “I have some ideas I want to run by you, if you don’t mind.” 

             

She glanced at the clock.  It was nearly five o’clock now.  If he took too long, she would never be able to get some groceries on the way home, workout, and make it in before dark.

             

It was almost as if he knew what she was thinking.  “I’ll have some take-out delivered since you’re being such a good sport.  And if it gets too late, I’ll have my driver take you home.” 

             

Well, she could always miss working out just this once.  Smiling, she said quietly, “That would be nice.”

 

             

It took two delivery guys to carry in all of the Chinese food Samuel ordered.  Haley’s mouth fell open at the sight of it covering the conference table on the far side of his office.  “Is it really just for the two of us?”  She asked.

             

“Absolutely,” he assured her as he glanced down the length of the conference table, “although we may be eating leftovers for a few days.”  He motioned for her to fill a plate. 

 

             

Time had passed rapidly.  It was nearly seven.  For the most part, Haley had been remarkably calm; due entirely to Samuel’s heightened sensitivity.  He had maintained a distance that was unusual for him.  Though he came off as being cold and remote, that was merely an image that served him at work.  In his personal life, Samuel was an amiable man who could be incredibly affectionate with those he cared about.  His was a hugging family.

 

             

After having been bent over a desk most of the day, Haley reached up to rub her neck, and Samuel was struck by how much he wanted to do that for her, but he laced his fingers, remembering not to be tempted.  A second later, she sat up straight while continuing to read what was on the table in front of her, and pulled at the clip holding her hair in a severe twist.  Her hair cascaded around her shoulders in gentle waves.  It was almost more than Samuel could take.

             

“I think we’ve made some great progress tonight, Miss Iverson,” he said quickly.

             

Puzzled, she met his gaze.  “Are you sure you are ready to quit?  I don’t mind staying later if I have a ride.”  This was the first time she had been given a glimpse of the inner workings of the ad world.  It fascinated her, challenged her brain in a way that her job as his personal assistant never would.

             

For the first time he could remember, Samuel didn’t know what to do.  He knew that he couldn’t date her, since it went against the policy he himself had imposed, but damn if he didn’t want to get to know this woman better.  He sighed.  He would simply have to manufacture excuses for them to be together.  He thought for a moment.  “Well, I have a dinner with one of the heads of the company this campaign is for tomorrow night.  I know he’ll be bringing his wife, and I should have… an escort.  It’s supposed to be social, but these things always turn to business.”  He watched her for a reaction.  “And then afterwards, we would be able to discuss our impressions and work to improve our work before the actual presentation.”  He could tell that she was thinking about it.  Suddenly he found his mind laboring to determine what her hesitation might be.

BOOK: Hiding Out
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