Dirty Playboy Read online

  “Will you just stop with the act already?”

  He leans away from me, and for once, his reaction looks genuine.

  I’ve never really stood up to him. I try to be a nice person, but he’s just caught me on the wrong day and I’ve about had it with everyone. I should just go home and try to start over tomorrow, but I never miss a day of work. I’d feel even more guilty if I left work over this. It’s unacceptable. I try to take a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

  “What act?” He puts emphasis on the last word.

  I look around and people are staring now. I’m such a jerk, but this man is just—relentless. I lower my voice, hoping nobody else can hear. “You know what act. The quoting scripture. The everything.” I wave a hand up and down at him. “This is not you. If it was you, it would be fine. But, it’s not.”

  Without being able to stop himself, he immediately says, “I’m just a humble man, trying to walk in the footsteps—”

  I roll my eyes and turn away from him. I pretend to look at my computer and scroll through some emails and ignore him.

  “This is our first.”

  I whip my head back, and there’s a smile spanning the width of his face.

  What could he possibly be enjoying about this?

  I do notice one thing, though. It’s a real smile. It’s the worst, because he’s so cute. No, he’s really hot and he knows it. I have no idea why he’s so fixated on me. There are a million women around here who are much prettier, stylish, and would jump in bed with him in an instant. He wouldn’t even have to try. I am not one of those women, at all. Truth be told, I’m pretty boring. I like my routines. I just do not understand this situation, but right now, it’s making my life difficult, and that’s a problem.

  “What are you even talking about?” I glare at him. I don’t want to glare, but I do, because he’s so frustrating. “Why are you smiling about this?”

  “Because this.” He wags a finger back and forth between us. “This is our first fight.” He stares off at the wall as if he’s soaking up the moment and logging it away in his memory. Then, he shakes his head, still grinning. “Had to happen sometime.” He locks eyes with me again. “We had a good run there for a while, Patrick. I think we nailed our first little spat, though, better than any of the other couples around here.”

  I will kill him. “Do not say things like that around here. You know how bad the gossip is. We are not a couple.” I glance around the room to make sure nobody can hear him.

  His eyes roll up to the ceiling. “No, we’re not.” His gaze lands back on mine, and for the first time today he actually looks serious. Dead serious. Piercing gaze, alpha-male serious.

  It’s a smoldering stare, and despite my attempts to stop it, my whole body heats up when he does it.

  “But we will be.”

  Why does he have to say those kinds of things? And why am I sitting here speechless instead of telling him to go jump off a cliff? Why am I not telling him that it’s not happening, and it will never happen?

  Because you secretly want it to happen. Because he’s overzealous when it comes to you and he’s gorgeous.

  No, he’s not!

  Before I can respond, Rick winks right at me, then turns around. Without looking back, he says, “See you at church tonight, Mary Patrick.”

  I sit there, almost panting, chest heaving up and down after what he just said. I want to be disgusted, but I’m not. I know he saw every bit of my reaction too. It’s what he’s trained to do. He knows when he said, “but we will be,” that it got to me. Because it did. I’ve never had a man say anything like that to me before, and a pure shock of fear and excitement just passed through my body simultaneously, and the excitement won out. It definitely did, even though I will never admit that to him.

  I glance around and, thankfully, don’t see any coworker’s eyeballs staring back at me.

  This is getting ridiculous.

  * * *

  The church sanctuary is eerily quiet as I replay today’s events at the office over and over in my mind.

  I spent all afternoon trying to get my mojo back after Rick and the jerk client ruined my morning. Rick made it worse. Why can’t I get him out of my head? And now, I’m going to see him here at church any minute. I swear, I am never rid of him, ever. He’s literally more omnipotent than God.

  You don’t mind.

  Yes, I do.

  The man is a con artist and I’ll never fall for it. Maybe if he would just show me his true self once in a while, it would change things. I have zero clue who he is. He feels so fake and I can’t get past that. Still, I continue to be nice to him because he’s always been nice to me. The whole thing is just—weird.

  Anyway, the dread creeps back up as I stroll up to the front of the sanctuary after spending most of the evening back in the office, Rick-free. It’s not even dread, really, as I take each step. It’s nerves. My stomach twists in a knot every time Rick is around, even if I don’t see him, I can feel his presence, and I have no idea why. I know he’s in the building, and the anticipation is killing me. Yeah, he’s cute. So what? Maybe he causes little flutters now and then when I see him. Who cares? He’s also a compulsive liar and blatant misogynist; when I’m not around, anyway. He’s never done it in front of me, but every single other woman I work with has told horror stories of his behavior.

  I don’t see Rick anywhere as I walk up to Pastor Jeremiah, and it’s a welcome distraction from these feelings floating around inside me. I just adore him. He’s so much fun. The man has to be past eighty, silver-white hair, wrinkles everywhere, hunched shoulders, but he’s still sharp as a tack and a ton of fun. Doesn’t take himself too seriously like most church leaders. In fact, he may be the most playful pastor I’ve ever known. Truth be told, I might’ve moved back to Dallas a long time ago if it weren’t for him and this church. I love it here.

  “Are the deposits ready?” I smile as I walk up to the pew.

  “Women, they even want the Lord’s money.”

  I burst into a laugh. “You’ve been hanging out with you know who too long.” I fake-scold him with my hands on my hips, barely able to control my grin.

  A throat clears from across the room in the shadows. I glance over and see Rick smiling right at me, letting me know he’s here and he knows I’m referring to him. I shoot a glare back at him to let him know he’s not off the hook for this morning. Not to mention, Rick is like a puppy. If I give him any attention, I wear him as a shadow everywhere I go, it just gets worse.

  “Like Jesus, I’m only interested in truth.” Jeremiah smiles and hands me the deposit bag with the cash.

  I shove it down in my purse. “Did you write down how much it was?”

  Jeremiah stares at me like I have three heads.

  I sigh. “Never mind, I’ll make sure it’s all accounted for in the software when I do the bookkeeping.” I’m so glad I got them on a digital system to let people transfer tithes electronically, to reduce the amounts of bills. These deposits were thousands of dollars in checks and cash each week, and now it’s only a few hundred. “I’ll drop it at the bank in the morning. You need anything else before I head out of here?”

  “I think we’re good. Thanks, Mary.”

  I give him a little nod. “No problem. Happy to help.”

  Rick’s still pretending to clean some of the stained-glass windows on the wall, but I can see him watching me from the corner of his eye.

  Ugh! He’s going to try and talk to me. I don’t want to talk to Rick right now. I was almost in a good mood again, then I saw his fake smile he always wears around me, with his fake Bible knowledge he memorizes.

  Gah, I’m the worst. I shouldn’t judge him. I should be happy he’s making an effort, reading the Bible. Why does he get under my skin so bad? And why do I enable it so much? It’s because I’m too nice. People always say I’m too nice, like it’s a bad thing. I don’t get it. But now I’m starting to understand a little better. Sometimes you have to assert yourse
lf, and I’m slowly learning that lesson.

  I lean over to Jeremiah. “Run interference for me, so I can sneak out of here?”

  His eyes light up and he turns his head. “Rick, can you come here? Need some help with something.”

  I whisper, “I owe you one,” and bolt up the aisle as Rick heads at the wrong angle to go see what Jeremiah wants.

  I can see the frustration on his face out of the corner of my eye as I power-walk toward the exit. Rick doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to leave Jeremiah hanging, and he doesn’t want to sprint to cut me off and make his intentions clear. Plus, you can’t just ignore an eighty-year-old man who asks a favor. It makes you a jerk, and even Rick has some standards.

  I think.

  I can’t believe it. As I close the distance to the door, I might just make it out unscathed and in a good mood.

  I walk out into the fresh, downtown Chicago air, and head up the sidewalk to my car. Skyscrapers float by overhead as I round a corner and turn up the block. There’s a homeless man there, panhandling for change. Weird. I’ve never seen him before, and I usually know everyone. I always talk to them, invite them to church, see if they need anything, try to give them some resources to shelters around if they want a bed to sleep in.

  I stop in front of the man and take out my wallet.

  “Thank you so much, ma’am. Lost my job. Hard times.”

  I smile. “No problem. I only have a few dollars, but I’ll be back by on Sunday if you’re still going to be here. If you need a place to stay—”

  He cuts me off. “Doubtful, I’m just waiting to get a bed up the road. They’re full right now.”

  I fumble around for a second. Where’s my wallet? Why do I have so much stuff in my purse? I rifle around for another second.

  “How about you give me that too?”

  “I’m sorry?” I turn my head, and my eyes widen.

  He’s up on his feet and has a knife out, glancing around to make sure we’re alone, and he’s staring right at the money bag I took from Pastor Jeremiah. It has the name of the church’s bank right across the front of it, a huge sign that says, “I have money in here.”

  Fear rips through my body, and then it just morphs into rage. I’ve never felt anything like this before. Maybe it’s just adrenaline, maybe it’s been my entire day and how frustrated I’ve been.

  It’s only a couple hundred dollars. It’s so stupid. This man has a knife pulled out. My life is worth more than that. Pastor Jeremiah would tell me to hand it over and run, no question about it. He wouldn’t care at all.

  “Hurry up.”

  I shake my head and grip my purse so hard the whites of my knuckles show, and I take a step back from him, but I don’t run. “No.”

  His eyes go wide this time, like he can’t believe what I just said to him. “No?”

  “You heard me. If you want more money, ask politely.” Who are you right now, Mary? Just hand him the stinking money.

  I think he must be used to people just giving whatever he asks for when he pulls that knife, because he just stares at me in disbelief.

  “This money is for the church. It’s God’s money. Do you want to make Him mad at you? If you need help, all you have to do is ask politely and I will give you anything I can.”

  I don’t know if I’ve ever been this scared and angry at the same time.

  His eyes fall to the ground, and a tear rolls down his cheek. I must be out of my mind. How lucky am I that this man seems to have a conscience in there?

  I finally gather my wits and take all the cash from my wallet. “Here, it’s really all I have on me. I promise. You can have it all, and there’s no need for the knife. So, can you please just put it away? It’s scaring me.”

  He stands there, just staring at me. “I-I’m s-sorr…”

  A rush of energy comes out of nowhere. The man who was standing in front of me disappears in a blur when another body collides with him. The knife clatters across the sidewalk.

  I shriek because what else do you do in this situation? It all happens in slow motion, like a dream, and I can’t move—an out-of-body experience.

  At some point in the chaos, I realize it’s Rick and he’s pounding this guy’s face like a sledgehammer, straight into the ground.

  I’m not sure what I yell, and what is said, but I grab Rick and try to pull him off the guy, because I’m afraid he might be dead. Finally, I get hold of him and spin him around. I’ve never seen him look like this before. He’s normally so laid back, nonchalant, like the whole world is just a joke.

  Not the man in front of me right now. He’s a monster.

  His face is bright red, nostrils flared, breathing heavily, ready to burn down the city. Every muscle in his body is tense, veins bulging on his forehead and neck, and he has a murderous look on his face. He picks up the knife and hurls it down an alley and it clinks across the ground off in the distance. Then before I know what’s happened, I’m wrapped in his arms and he’s checking me all over.

  “Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”

  Why does being in his arms feel so good? And why do I want to rip his head off at the same time?

  Finally, after getting my senses back, I shake my head and push him away from me. “What’s your problem? I was giving him some money.” I don’t even know what I’m doing right now. Honestly, I want to lean back into him, because I just felt so exposed, full of fear, and then in an instant I was safe, and I know it’s because of Rick. I’ve never felt so protected, in fact.

  At the same time, I need to figure this out. But, apparently, I’m mad at Rick for saving my life. This much is certain. He turns me into a crazy person, confuses me so much.

  “At knife point? He had a damn knife out! I just held it in my hand. You know he could’ve killed you with it, right?”

  I shove past him as the homeless man groans on the sidewalk. His face is all swollen and bloody, but he’s moving. That’s a good sign.

  “Unbelievable.” The words come from behind me, and up above now as I’m crouched over.

  “Are you okay?” I try to help him up by the shoulders.

  “No, but I will be. It’s all right, I deserved it.”

  “Damn right you did!” Rick paces back and forth, looking flabbergasted that the three of us are still here having a conversation.

  “Can you shut up for two seconds?” I glare at Rick. Why am I being so mean to him? He literally just defended me. Maybe it’s the violence. I hate violence.

  Rick’s jaw sets and he grinds his teeth, but as usual, he does exactly what I ask of him. I’ll give him that, anytime I’m serious and ask him to do something, he does it.

  “Here. Take it and go to the hospital and get checked out. You’ll at least get a bed for the night that way.” I give him the contents of the money bag.

  When I tell Pastor Jeremiah what happened, I’ll reimburse the church. Hopefully, it’ll cover his medical bills if the state doesn’t pay for all of it.

  He tries to push the money away. “I can’t.”

  What a freaking day this turned out to be. It was okay to take the money at knife point, but not now? Now, the thief has honor. I am about done with men being idiots today. I shove it in his pocket, grab my bag, and take off for my car.

  I should talk to Rick, say something, but I can’t. How do I thank him for pummeling an old man into the ground? But how do I not, for possibly saving my life? I don’t think that man would’ve hurt me. But I don’t know that. I hate being rude to Rick about it, but I just want to process all this—alone, for a little while at least.

  No such luck.

  Rick is right on my heels.

  “What are you doing?” I say without looking back.

  He talks through his teeth. “Walking you to your car. What’s it look like?”

  “I think you’ve done enough already.”

  “Yeah, you’re welcome by the way.”

  “I didn’t need saving. I had it under control.” I do my best to
walk a little faster than him, but the attempt is futile. He could probably jog faster than I could run, especially in these shoes.

  He speeds up alongside me. “Obviously.”

  We get to my car and I wheel around on him. “Yeah, it was obvious. Fists don’t solve everything.” Finally, the world starts to spin a little slower, and I realize how ridiculous I’m being. I think it’s the adrenaline wearing off.

  I’ve never seen Rick look at me the way he is right now. He looked so mean before, but now, he just looks scared. He’s full of fear, worried something could’ve happened to me back there. Holy cow, I was just held at knife point. And I gave the guy more money afterward and checked on him.

  My palms start to shake a little and I can’t even look at him. It all starts to hit me at once, overwhelming fear of just how stupid I was, and how horribly wrong that could’ve gone. “I-I’m sorry.”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t do that. You don’t have to.”

  I nod. “Yeah, I—”

  He has his arms around me again, and this time I squeeze back. The fear hits me again, huge waves of unfiltered anxiety crashing into me. The gravity of the situation pounds into me and I don’t want Rick to ever let go. Not right now, anyway. His strong, muscular arms wrap me up tight and he smooths my hair down the back of my head.

  “You don’t have to do anything. It wasn’t your fault. You can react however you want to, okay?” He leans back, and his palms go to my cheeks. “None of that was your fault. Say it back to me.”

  “Rick…”

  “Say it.”

  “It-it wasn’t my fault.”

  “Good.” He smiles, that boyish smile he uses to try to lighten the mood. The one that’s real. That’s the real him. “That’s the truth. Okay? Believe it.”

  I nod. I don’t want to go, but I have to. “I need to…” I nod to my car as my words trail off.