Creature of Habit (Creature of Habit #1) (3 page)

Chapter 5

Amelia

The computer churned out the crisp sheet of paper documenting my accomplishments for the day. The list was long, a little tedious, but satisfyingly complete. I held back a self-congratulatory cheer. I mean, it wasn’t like there was anyone around to hear it anyway.

I had survived my first week of work without screwing up, or even meeting my boss.  When the clock struck five I had plans to meet Drew for dinner and drinks—lots of drinks—to celebrate.

Halfway out the door, my phone rang. “Crap,” I muttered, scrambling to find it in my purse. In the process I dropped the keys, and then my bag, barely catching the caller before it went to voice mail.

"Hello," I answered, distracted, looking around for the keys.

"Ms. Chase?"

"Yeah, this is Amelia," I grunted. Ah! My fingers connected with the keys.

"This is Grant Palmer." I froze.

Crappity-crap.

I fought to gain some professionalism. "Yes sir, how are you?"

"I'm fine, thank you. I know it is late but I need you to do one more thing before you leave." His voice was very direct, but carried a soothing lilt.

"Oh, of course." I groaned internally, wanting to tell him ‘hell no’. He would pick tonight, Friday night, the only night my plans included something other than pajamas and ice cream, to keep me late. “Let me get my notepad to jot this down.”

Pushing the key into the lock, I let myself back into the house.

"I'm having the Raleigh office send you some paperwork via email. Once it all comes in, please copy it in triplicate, and have them spiral bound." His words come out in a rush and I ran down the hallway to get a piece of paper to write on. "The cover should be clear, but the backing needs to be opaque. You may choose the color. Black usually works. Each set of documents needs to be numbered, notarized and logged in the file. When you're finished leave them on your desk by the daily report."

I was still scribbling down the information when I realized it was my turn to talk, so I blurted out, “Tonight. No problem,” when I was really thinking, “
You have lost your freaking mind!  Tonight! It’s Friday I have plans!  With a margarita!”
  Instead I repeated, "No problem. I would be happy to do that."

"Thank you, Amelia." Click. The line went dead.

I dropped my head to the desk and moaned. This was the first direct task he had asked me to do. Well, other than the bizarre note he left requesting that I change perfume. I didn't wear perfume so I had no idea how to fulfill that demand.

I picked up the phone again and texted Drew.

Um so…working late.

How late?

Late.

9:30?

I’ll try.

Save you a drink?

Save me five.

I refused to let this ruin my whole night so I sucked it up and prepared to finish my task quickly. I did the best thing you can do when in a hurry, I waited.

Five minutes passed and nothing had come through even though I clicked refresh eighty-eleven times. Maybe I’d lost internet connection? Wifi? Nope, five bars stared at me from the corner. After twenty minutes, I checked the connection to the wall and restarted the computer. Thirty minutes and I went to get a snack out of the refrigerator. Forty-five minutes later my email chimed.
Finally!
I clicked the print button. Impatiently, I snatched the papers as they rolled out, making sure they stayed in order. Once they were all printed I quickly ran out the door to drive to the copy store. There was a 24-hour shop a couple of miles away. I glanced at the clock on the dash as I darted out of the car.  It was 6:30. Plenty of time to finish, go home and change and get to the bar.

Since it was Friday night the store was not very crowded and my hopes soared. The university being on summer break made it even better. I took a place in line behind an older man with a small stack of papers. My hope was short lived as I watched the 16-year-old behind the counter approach the customer in front of me. He had ear buds hanging over his shoulders, a dirty T-shirt peeking out from behind his crumpled blue vest.  It became immediately clear he did not have a date later that night so he would not understand my rush. I crossed my arms and waited. Again.

According to my watch, their exchange lasted a full 38 minutes. I listened over and over again as the customer explained repeatedly that he needed the paperwork enlarged, but not too large and not too small. They had to make countless copies before the perfect size was agreed upon.  I almost clapped when he finally walked out of the store.

I rushed the counter, smiling brightly at the surly teenager in front of me. "Hi." I said, hoping he would put some pep in his step if I was nice.

He barely glanced at me as he said, "Hey. What do you need?"
Hmmm, I may need to up the charm.

"Oh, I need some copies made and then bound. Here." I shoved the paperwork in front of him with the directions I had written down. "Sorry, I know, but my
boss
really needs it. Ugh, working on Friday night sucks, right?"

He picked up the directions and grunted, turning to the copiers behind him.

I sighed and stole a glance at my watch. It was 7:15. There was no way I could make it home to change but I looked okay, well I thought I did, even if Copy Boy didn't think so.

He could do this and I would get it notarized and then leave it on the desk and race to meet Drew. No problem.

I spent the next 25 minutes pacing the store. I made a bracelet out of paper clips, and wrote my name in White-Out on scrap paper I found in the trash. Just when I thought I was going to completely lose my shit, Copy Boy walked back over. I considered punching him when I noticed hands which were empty.

"Finished?" I asked, hopefully.

He shrugged. "The binding machine is kind of messing up so I had to make new copies for the one that got jammed."

“Does that mean you’re not finished?”

He shrugged again and walked away. Okay then.

Twenty minutes later I had my binders and had paid with my shiny silver credit card. I sat in the car and realized I had no idea where to get something notarized at this time of night. I ran back in and asked Copy Boy if someone there could do it.

He thought for a minute and said, "Yeah, Sarah my boss can do it."

I almost leaped over the counter and gave him a kiss. Probably his first one, but I was willing to make the sacrifice.

"Great! Can you give them to her for me?" I asked.

"Uh, no. She’s on the over-night shift. She won’t be here until ten. Sorry." Stupid Copy Boy. He would die a virgin, I was sure.

Pissed, I walked back to my car. I had no idea what to do. I was banging my head on the steering wheel when my phone rang.

I answered with little enthusiasm. "Hello."

"Amelia, are you finished?"

It was Drew. I could hear the thumping music behind him signaling that he was already at the bar.

"No, I have everything but the paperwork has to be notarized. I have no idea what to do. It's Friday night. Not only am I not going to be able to meet you I will probably get fired since I failed at my first assignment given to me directly by my boss," I whined, on the verge of genuine, freak-out tears.

"Okay, calm down. We can totally figure this out," Drew assured me.  I took a deep breath, trying to make myself focus.

Clutching the phone I said, "The notary at the copy place won't be back until 10 pm. The bank is closed and any other official place would be too by now."

There was a long pause on the phone and finally Drew said, "Well, what would his old PA have done?"

"Drew! Yes! Let me call Genevieve and find out what she suggests to do."

I scrolled though my phone, thankful Genevieve had suggested I save her number in case of an emergency. I sighed in relief when she picked up in the third ring. "Genevieve . It's Amelia. I need your help."

Chapter 6

Grant

To my surprise, it was almost ten o’clock when I arrived home. I had spent the better part of the day in Black Mountain taking care of some family business.

Well, they called it family business. I called it an intervention. For the twentieth time in as many years. Seriously, I had a feeling they looked forward to it, like a normal family would look forward to a reunion.

Due to all this, I was behind on my work and my nerves were shot from all the talking and guilt and the non-stop chatter. I'd spent all these years avoiding them for this exact reason, except they still felt like it was their business to get into my business. Or rather, my personal life. Or my lack of one. Regardless, they were nosy and pushy and it only confirmed the reason I left all those years ago.

I approached the door, but stopped, fingers paused on the door knob.

Thump

A deep, muscle-rattling vibration shook me to the core.

Thump, thump

I looked around and even leaned out the door of the garage facing the alley. Nothing. Silence. Not even a car in sight.

I walked back to the door and pressed the button to the garage door before walking in the kitchen. As I closed the door I was assaulted by a wave of that blasted perfume.

Damn. I swelled with irritation. Earlier in the week I left her a note about the perfume and unbelievably, it actually seemed worse. Was she bathing in it?

Thump, thump

The smell rattled my head, causing it to pound, which was the least of my problems as I felt my hunger growing even though I was well-fed.

thump, thump, thump, thump

I held my breath as I walked through the kitchen to her desk with the intent to simply grab the binders. Then I could retire to my room, away from the obnoxious smell and rest my throbbing head. That was my plan. I always had a plan. Three moves ahead of the other person. How? Because I could always anticipate the next move.

Always.

Except, in the absolute silence of the room I realized, three moves too late, there was a person standing five feet away. Unaware. She was unaware that I’d seen her.

Thump, thump

Five feet.

How did I miss it? Her?

I heard nothing. Not a whisper. Well, that wasn't entirely true.

I’d been so distracted by the smell and intense pounding of my head that I’d failed to see her standing right in front of me until it was terribly, unfortunately too late.

Thump, thump

My reaction was a defensive, low growl rumbling through my chest. I’d broken a fundamental principal. Never let down your guard.

thump, thump, thump, thump

Louder and faster the thumps came. I took a deep breath.

Lemons.

thump, thump, thump, thump, thump

She still hadn’t seen me, at least I had that advantage, and I assessed her quickly. She had pale hair and an even fairer complexion. Her hair was braided in a long plait down her back, and I zeroed in on the grayish vein near the curve of her exposed neck. I sucked in a gasp of air. She turned, her very green eyes wide with surprise.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, nearly jumping out of her shoes. "You scared me! You must be Mr. Palmer. I'm Amelia."

thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump

Her heart beat faster and her ears burned red, adding another pulse point to the rattling noise in my head.  I stared at her face and then down at her hand.

She held it there for a moment, floundering in the air, until she finally withdrew it, surely remembering the rules Genevieve had told her about touching me. Or, rather, never touching me.

I had mere seconds to pull it together, to maintain composure for the woman in front of me.

I squinted, focusing on her face—not her heartbeat, not her scent, but her face—and looked her in the eye. As calmly and softly as possible, I made direct eye contact and said, "Ms. Chase, I think you need to leave."

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t mean to be rude.” I kept my voice even, pleasant, even though my head was about to split. Had I blinked? Did she? I made sure to maintain eye contact this time, and added, “It’s very late and I’ve had a tiring day. It would be best if you left. Now.”

Her eyes were filled with confusion and a slight edge of fear. She gaped for a moment, her eyebrows knitting together. “Um, sure, I can leave. Sorry to inconvenience you.”

Again she frowned, fluid glistening in her eyes. She didn’t seem compelled but simply affronted. Scared? Whatever her reaction, it wasn’t normal. I clung to the edge of the desk, the wood splintering under the pressure. Clarity struck and she took a quick step back before dashing for the front door where I heard her pull something off the hook on the wall and slam the door.

Her motion caused a waft of familiar lemony-scent, laced with the delicious hint of fear, to hit my senses. Within seconds of the door closing, I raced down the hallway intent on stopping her. No, not stop her. To catch her.

A brief moment of discipline overruled my instinct, and I pressed a black button next to the security box. Bolts engaged, locking all of the doors tight. Nothing I couldn’t get out of if I tried, but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.

Or could I?

Even under the most stringent resolve, I crashed hard into the wood and glass door with my body. The glass splintered into a spider web of cracks, threatening to shatter beneath my strength. I spread my palms flat, pressing against the wooden surface, bracing myself. I couldn’t open it. I wouldn’t. I fought the instinct, the hunger and desire.

I leaned my back against the door and slid to my knees, clutching my hair in my hands and groaned loudly.
What. The. Fuck. Was. That?