The Favor

Hanna’s face went all soft and sympathetic. “That limp-dicked asshole crushed your teenage heart.”

“Not quite, but he certainly dealt it a few kicks. People always used to talk about how he was made for bigger and better things than the life he’d been born into. We grew up in a real shady neighborhood. A part of me worried he’d leave me behind when his life officially took off … and he did. He asked to remain friends, but I never saw or heard from him again after that.”

“Not even once?”

“No. I bumped into his aunt a few times over the years, so I know he’s married, has a kid, owns a huge house, and has a cushy job.” I sighed. “I’m glad things worked out so well for him. I really am. It’s just made me painfully aware of how little my own life has changed since we last saw each other. Not that I don’t like my life, it’s just become sort of … stagnant.”

I had my health, I had people who loved me, I had a well-paying job, and I never took any of it for granted. But I felt like I was stuck in one place, existing only to eat, sleep, and pay my bills. I didn’t date, didn’t go on vacations, didn’t take much time for myself. I didn’t really have time, since I worked a lot. Being the PA of a workaholic was murder on my personal life. I definitely needed to shake things up a bit.

“Is there no way you can get out of seeing Owen?” asked Hanna.

“Probably not. His boss arranged a meeting with Dane months ago. I had a brief chat with the guy’s PA earlier via phone, and she told me that Charles would be bringing two of his ‘rising stars’ with him. I almost fell off my chair when she said Owen’s name. And since Dane usually likes me to sit in on these sorts of meetings and take notes, it’s highly unlikely that I can avoid seeing Owen.”

“Shit.” Straightening, Hanna waved a hand at me. “Well, you might not be married, rich, or live in a flashy house, but you’re a smart, confident woman who anyone would respect purely for working as Dane Davenport’s PA for a full four years. Not many people could work so closely with a corporate psychopath. At least not without having a breakdown.”

I sighed. “Granted, Dane’s … a little difficult at times, but he’s not a psychopath.”

“You’ve not noticed the power-hunger, lack of empathy, absence of a conscience, or that he is a control freak? None of his previous PAs lasted longer than six months—they were either fired or left in tears. Dane is not anyone’s idea of a nice guy. Not that I’m complaining. There’s something real yummy about a bad boy. The whole cold and ruthless thing works for him.”

Okay, so he liked power. Didn’t most CEOs? And, yes, he could be a little insensitive and careless with people’s feelings. He was also ruthless, sure, but … “He’s not cold or without a conscience. And he doesn’t lack empathy.” Well, not totally anyway. “He just doesn’t always bother to call up any emotional tact.”

“He made Gibson cry yesterday. Sweet, fresh-faced, quick-to-laugh Gibson. That’s like kicking a puppy. Which is something Dane probably often did as a child—being mean to animals is textbook for psychopathic kids, you know.”

I sighed again. “He’s not a psychopath.”

“Come on, he even has that hunter stare they’re known for having. Look me in the eye and tell me it doesn’t make you want to squirm. The hairs on my nape stand up every time.”

Yeah, I didn’t fare much better against it. There was always a dangerous glint in his dark, steely eyes. They could focus on you like a laser, pin you in place, and direct so much intensity at you that your personal space felt invaded.

Even after four years of working for him, I was not immune to that unflinching, relentless, apex-predator stare. Not at all. It was like being watched by a jungle cat. A big, badass jungle cat who wondered what an insignificant little thing like you was doing in its domain.

“Anyone can perfect a stare like that if they try hard enough,” I said.

Hanna squinted, and her mouth curled into a smile. “You know something? I think you like him.”

In all honesty, I’d had a harmless crush on my boss for years now. I didn’t give myself a hard time about it. There was no way to remain unaffected by Dane Davenport. “Good-looking” was too tame a term for him. Tall, dark, and supremely male, he exuded a raw sex appeal that could shake any girl’s equilibrium.

It wasn’t just his appearance that made him so lethally seductive. It was the entire package—his powerful personality, innate aura of authority, unshakable self-assuredness, and the untamed air about him that spoke of danger.