Villain: A Hero Novella Read online

  “Oh, sweetie.” Barbara hugged me again. “I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? And next time,” she pulled back to stare sternly into my eyes, “you tell me. There are a few bad apples still left in our line of work, and sometimes it’s hard for a woman. But not if we stick together. Okay? Promise me.”

  I realized then that my tears were of relief. I sagged. “I’m glad he’s gone.”

  “Me too. We can get back to normal now.”

  “Hopefully the next boss won’t be an ass.”

  “We can only hope,” she said dryly, and chucked my chin. “Now get into hair and makeup. I’m sorry to say it, sweetie, but you look like you haven’t slept for a millennium while being dragged backward through a hedge.”

  “Funny, it feels like it too.”

  As I walked to hair and makeup, I realized I’d needed to cry to let it out of my system. I still felt exhausted but relief was slowly settling over me and my steps were lighter than they had been in weeks. Until my phone rang. When I saw the familiar number, a new sense of determination shot down my spine. For the first time since he’d started calling again, I answered. “I’m not playing hard to get. I don’t want to hear from you. Ever. I’m changing my number.”

  I hung up and made a mental note to get a new number after work today.

  * * *

  My meteorology report was done and weather maps sent to the producers ready for the green screen when Lucy at reception called to say Henry Lexington was here to see me.

  I glanced at the clock. It was 6 a.m. and I was due to go live in an hour. But I threw my shoulders back. It was better to get this over with now. I told Lucy to bring him to conference room one.

  Where I was waiting so I could talk to him privately.

  He stepped into the conference room and Lucy closed the door behind her as she left. Like always, Lexington’s presence filled the room. I was trying to be cool and casual, leaning against the conference table with my ankles crossed in front of me. His eyes zeroed in on my face, and there was concern in them.

  Too little too late.

  “If you’re here to check if I’ve dropped the story, you can rest assured I have. Of course, you did hear me tell Dick that last night, right?”

  He nodded, taking a careful step toward me. “I came to see if you’re all right.”

  I laughed and the sound was so harsh, it made him flinch. “Why do you care?”

  “I deserve that. I admit I misjudged you and I apologize.”

  I slipped off the desk, standing tall and defiant as I crossed my arms over my chest. “Fine. You can leave.”

  Lexington suddenly looked exasperated. “I’ve tried to make amends.”

  “You got Dick fired.” I nodded, having deduced that. “You must have quite the connections to have made that happen. Apparently the club in question doesn’t like scandal.”

  “No, it doesn’t, but rape isn’t scandal. It’s a crime.”

  Renewed anger rushed through me at the memory of Dick rubbing against me. “Funny, you didn’t seem that bothered by it last night.”

  He looked like he’d been slapped. “Excuse me?”

  “Last night,” I bit out. “When Dick had me trapped against a wall… you know… sexually harassing me.” Angry tears blurred my vision, which made me even angrier because he didn’t deserve them. “You stood there and waited to hear what we were saying before you did anything.”

  Lexington stared at me a moment, seeming stunned.

  “Fuck,” he eventually breathed, remorse etched in his eyes as he moved toward me.

  I cringed away, stumbling around the desk to put it between us.

  He looked horrified by my reaction. “Nadia, please… I didn’t know what I was seeing when I walked into that hall. I thought it was a lover’s quarrel. I didn’t realize what was happening until I heard him blackmail you. I would never…,” his voice grew hoarse with sincerity, “stand by and let that happen to a woman. To anyone.”

  “Not even lowly scum on the evolutionary chain?”

  “Jesus. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what was happening to you. Not with Dick’s blackmail and not last night. I swear.” He tentatively took a step toward me like I was an animal he might frighten away. “But I’m still sorry. I should have intervened right away and I regret not doing so.”

  My blood was so hot with resentment, it took me a moment to process his words, the sincerity behind them. Eventually, I calmed enough to make a decision.

  I nodded, thinking maybe I believed him. However, I couldn’t look at him anymore. His earnestness made me want to crumble, but I was still too angry. “I tried to tell you. When you were leaving my apartment. I was trying to tell you what I knew so you could help me stop Dick. But you jumped on me. Pinned me to the wall.” My eyes flew to his so he’d fully understand the comparison I was drawing. “Bullied me.” I jutted my chin out. “But I’m nobody’s victim, Mr. Lexington. For future reference.”

  Not that I hoped to see him again. Ever.

  “I screwed up.”

  Yeah, he did.

  His piercing blue eyes flew to my face as if he’d heard my confirmation. “Nadia, I have no excuse, no good excuse. I’m very protective of my family. I thought you were trying to hurt a man I consider a brother.”

  And that was noble in a way.

  However, it didn’t soothe my outrage.

  “Have dinner with me.” He shocked the hell out of me. “Let me show you I’m not a bad guy.”

  “I don’t need a guilt date.”

  “A what?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m not interested.”

  “If we’d met under different circumstances… you’d want to have dinner with me.” He offered me a boyish, coaxing smile that under different circumstances probably would have worked.

  “You know I’m a little tired of men telling me who I am, what I’m worth, and what to do. I really don’t need them telling me how I feel.”

  Lexington’s expression sobered. “I know Dick treated you abominably, and I haven’t done much better, but you are too young to sound that bitter.”

  His aim rang true and I winced from the hit.

  He was right. I felt older than my years.

  I was weary to the bone.

  “Look, Mr. Lexington,” I walked toward the door and opened it, “I really am glad you nailed Dick to the wall. Literally and figuratively. But I’d like to put all of this behind me. You’re right… I’m too young to be bitter. So I don’t need reminders of this. And you’re a reminder. I’ll live quite happily knowing you and I will never cross paths again.”

  Striding toward the door, Lexington stopped so there was only inches between us. He wore that seductive, expensive cologne that tickled my senses. Those brilliant eyes stared deep into mine, searching them, and I wavered under their scrutiny.

  “I don’t want to never see you again,” he confessed, sounding surprised.

  I didn’t know how to respond.

  And apparently he didn’t know what to follow up with because suddenly he walked away.

  “We’re going to celebrate Dick getting fired. Come with us,” Barbara had said after the show.

  And I’d stupidly agreed.

  It didn’t seem stupid at the time, especially since we were celebrating at The Bristol Lounge, one of my favorite restaurants. It was part of the Four Seasons Hotel and directly across from Boston Public Gardens. The truth is I’d wanted a distraction from Henry’s visit. It was ridiculous but I couldn’t get his intense blue eyes out of my head. Or the remorse that had etched itself all over his face.

  Maybe he really did feel bad for the way he’d treated me.

  Yeah, maybe he did.

  But did that change anything?

  He’d still treated me poorly and who was to say he wouldn’t again?

  Just because people felt awful for doing something didn’t mean they wouldn’t repeat the crime.

  The real problem was my attraction to him.

/>   I could admit it.

  I was attracted to the son of a bitch.

  There was something deeply wrong with me that I could be attracted to a man I didn’t even like.

  Turned out that lunch with my colleagues was a terrible distraction idea. Because Henry was dining at The Bristol Lounge with none other than Caine Carraway.

  “Maybe we should go somewhere else,” I said as we stood in the lobby outside the restaurant. Henry hadn’t spotted us yet.

  Barbara frowned. “This is your favorite place. You love the Bristol Burger.”

  I did love the Bristol Burger.

  And for the first time in weeks, I was hungry.

  Dammit.

  No man was chasing me away from my goddamn burger.

  “You’re right.” I nodded, sounding more assured than I actually felt. “But I’ll walk on your left side.”

  My friend eyed me in confusion as I huddled at her side, trying to hide behind her as the host led us up the few stairs onto the main floor of the restaurant and right past Henry and Carraway’s table near the bar area, to a larger table at the back of the restaurant. As far as I could tell, he hadn’t spotted me and there were now pillars between us that I could hide behind.

  Relieved, I slid into my chair beside Barbara.

  “Drinks?” the waiter asked.

  We’d finished giving him our orders when the sight of Henry Lexington walking into view around one of those aforementioned pillars and toward our table made my pulse skitter.

  He gave me a soft smile as if we hadn’t been enemies up until twenty-four hours ago. “Miss Ray, what a pleasant surprise.” That soft smile grew into a roguish grin. “Are you stalking me?”

  I arched an eyebrow, wondering what the hell kind of game he was playing now. “A burger. I’m stalking a burger.”

  “The burgers are very good here.”

  “Mr. Lexington,” Barbara said beside me, sounding delighted to see him, and awfully familiar. “What a pleasure to see you.”

  “You too, Barbara. And please, I’ve told you before—smart, beautiful women should call me Henry.”

  I didn’t know what to do first: be surprised they knew each other or gag at his flirting with her.

  “You know each other?”

  “I know everyone worth knowing.” He winked at Barbara and she tittered like a schoolgirl.

  Dear God.

  And then I was the focus of his attention. He leaned against Andrew’s chair who was, as always, oblivious to anything but himself. “So this burger… will it put you in a good mood?”

  “Excuse me?”

  Those blue eyes were too intense, much too intense. “A good enough mood to agree to have lunch with me tomorrow?”

  I was going to kill him.

  How dare he put me on the spot in front of my colleagues, in front of Barbara! What? Did he think I’d be civil to him because we had an audience? I scowled. “No.”

  “Are you seeing someone?” he persisted.

  “No, she’s not,” Barbara interjected, giving me an “Are you crazy?” look. “And yes, she’s free for lunch tomorrow. You can pick her up from the station at one.”

  “Fantastic.” Henry gave her a grateful, gorgeous smile before turning it on me. “See you tomorrow.”

  He was gone before I could even get past the shock that had sealed my lips. Finally, they parted. “What was that?”

  Barbara shrugged. “Me making sure you don’t miss out.”

  “How dare you decide if not making a date with Henry Lexington is me missing out.”

  She raised an eyebrow at my snippiness. “He’s Boston’s most eligible bachelor, Nadia. For a reason.” She gestured to where he’d been standing. “You can’t tell me you don’t find him attractive.”

  “I’d have to be blind,” I gritted out begrudgingly. “But he and I don’t exactly see eye to eye.”

  “Didn’t seem that way to me. You could’ve cut the sexual tension with a knife.” She shuddered, wearing a dreamy smile. “If a man looked at me the way Henry was looking at you, I’d slather myself all over him like butter on bread.”

  I chuckled because she was hard to stay mad at. “Barbara, the man is a known slut. He’s not the settling-down type. When he looks at me, he’s merely thinking about sex.”

  “Sweetie, so are most men and plenty of women,” she patted my hand, “but is there anything wrong with sex?”

  Only the fact that I hadn’t had it in a while. “No.”

  “So why can’t you go on a date with him expecting nothing but a free lunch and, if you’re interested, the possibility of sex? I’ve heard he’s very good.”

  “Well, he’s had plenty of practice.” I huffed. “I don’t like him very much.”

  “Oh, sweetie, does everything have to be so serious? You don’t have to like someone to have fantastic sex with them, believe me.”

  I stared at my friend, contemplating her advice.

  She had a point.

  I mean, it wasn’t like trusting a man long enough to get into a serious relationship was in the cards for me at the moment. But I liked sex. My sex life didn’t need to dry up because I didn’t want to be in a relationship. And the last relationship I was in was over a year ago. Pete. He hadn’t lasted long. Neither had Mike before him. Or Denny before that. I was kind of a serial monogamist because I wasn’t very good at letting the men in my life really get to know me. Pete, Mike, and Denny had all dumped me for the same reason: I couldn’t trust them long enough to be real with them.

  But I missed sex.

  Maybe I should start being more like Henry Lexington. A true bachelorette.

  Maybe the man himself could teach me how, and by reducing him to no more than a one-time sexual partner, I could purge myself of the hurt that he’d added to when he’d treated me so poorly. Maybe I could dispel myself of some of the anger that had nestled, seemingly permanently, in a painful hollow in my chest.

  * * *

  There was a big beautiful vase of flowers waiting on my desk when I returned after hair and makeup the next morning.

  I admit to feeling a traitorous little thrill in my stomach when I saw the expensive calla lilies (how he knew those were my favorite, I did not know). Shaking my head in frustration that he could both piss me off and surprise me, I reached for the card.

  Changing your number doesn’t change how I feel. Darling, talk to me.

  Fuck.

  Of course Henry didn’t know I loved calla lilies.

  But he knew.

  Worry pricked at me as I stared at the card. I’d told him too many times to count to leave me alone. I’d changed my number… He wasn’t going all stalker on me, was he?

  Hating to rid my desk of the beautiful flowers, I flipped the card and called the florist who was clearly up at the butt crack of dawn.

  “Olivia’s Garden, how can I help?”

  “Ah, good morning, I received some flowers this morning.”

  “Miss Ray?”

  “Yes,” I said surprised.

  “Yours were a very early delivery. Did you like them?”

  “The flowers are beautiful. However, I really don’t want contact with the man who bought them. Would it be possible for you to take them back and let him know that I sent them back?”

  “I’m afraid flowers are nonrefundable.”

  “No, I don’t care about him getting his money back. I care about sending a message.”

  “What flowers would you like to send him to do so?”

  Was she for real? “No, I don’t want to send flowers.”

  “We also send chocolates, gift hampers, and wine.”

  “Never mind.” I hung up and slumped into my chair.

  “Ooh, who sent the flowers?” Angel asked as she passed by.

  “A misogynistic, egotistical, shallow, social climbing, cheating asshole.”

  She considered this. “He has good taste in flora.”

  Because she was funny, but mostly because I needed to, I la
ughed. Hard. And for a moment I felt better.

  * * *

  The flowers were another reminder of what happened when I trusted men. I wasn’t saying there weren’t men out there who could be trusted. Of course there were. I trusted Joe!

  But that was different. When it came to men I was sexually interested in, I never seemed to be able to discern the trustworthy ones from the untrustworthy ones. Before Pete, Mike, and Denny, when I was still naïve enough to trust, I’d ended up choosing the latter, and paying for it emotionally.

  It made me more determined to try things the way Barbara suggested, the way that Henry did things.

  I didn’t need to trust him to have sex with him, right?

  I ignored the voice screaming in the back of my mind: Wrong!

  It was Joe’s voice. I’d called him the evening before to relay my thinking to him.

  “No, no, no,” Joe had cut me off. “Nadia, you are not the one-night-stand kind of girl.”

  “We don’t know that,” I’d argued.

  “Yes, we categorically do. Don’t do this, honey. You’ll get hurt and you know I hate seeing you cry.”

  “Joe, I’m older and wiser now. Maybe this is the path my life is supposed to take.”

  “It’s not. One day you’ll meet a man you’ll instinctively know you can trust. If you do this… I think it’s going to take you back to a bad place. You’ll start hating yourself again and I can’t watch you do that to yourself.”

  Uncertainty and unease, and maybe even a little bit of panic, settled over me at Joe’s words. He was the only friend I had left from college, the only one who’d stood by my side, so he knew what he was talking about. Yet, I was tired of standing in one place. “Joe, I need to make a change.”

  He was silent for a while. “You’re a grown woman, honey. You do what you have to do and you know I’ll be here. But I am officially worried about this strategy.”

  “Barbara thinks it’s a great idea.”

  “Barbara doesn’t know what I know.”

  We’d ended the conversation soon after, and for a while I considered taking Joe’s advice. But then I thought about my limitations as a girlfriend, and about Henry and how much I wanted to scratch that itch.