A Favor

Prologue

“I don’t think this is a good idea. I get that you want to help out Sam and even why but what about Zoe? What if this isn’t good for her? She has made it very clear she doesn’t want to get involved with anyone again. Even if we don’t agree or understand, why shouldn’t you honor her wishes?”

“Sweetie, why are you jumping to conclusions of something happening between them?”

“Because I know you, and the way you think. You wouldn’t even be sending her if you didn’t think something could come of it. What did he do that made you think this will work?”

“Fine, she called when I was there about the plumbing repair and he saw her picture on my phone. He didn’t stop staring at it until it disappeared, I guess it sounded more domestic than work and he assumed she was you. When I hung up he said something about me doing well for myself. Since it was the first time he’d actually stopped looking bored, I decided to mess with him a little. Did the whole, yeah the first time I met her I fell hard. Ouch, my lovely wife, I told you it was just to mess with him but we’ve already gone over this. Yes, I thought I was in love with Zoe but I got over that and I know it’s just you and do you want to hear why I think he’ll be good for her or not?”

“Yes, sorry, I keep forgetting I don’t get jealous until you talk about Zoe. Tell me.”

“So I said, yeah, I had talked her into coming to work for me as a secretary and graphic artist when needed. His head came up when he heard she worked for me but then he sighed and I told him it was to get her close to me so she could fall in love with me but it didn’t work. She ended up introducing me to you so I didn’t get her as a wife but she’s a good secretary and artist. I’m pretty sure he stopped breathing on me for a minute but then he ran his hand over those damn scars of his and said no again. Basically, shoved me out the door after that.

I’m telling you, he’s interested, very interested but maybe the scars will hold him back. I’m not sure, maybe he’s still unhappy over the way his stint in the Rangers came to an end. You know the scars won’t matter to Zoe and we both know Zoe needs someone strong enough to take her on and pull her out from hiding. He won’t let her hide, he’s damn relentless when he wants something. I would almost feel guilty about setting Sam on her if she didn’t need it so badly. Sam is a good man, you really don’t want to know how I know that as far as a woman goes he’ll take care of her. Please trust me on this, he’s the kind of man she needs. Don’t look like that, now that we both know what it’s finally like to love completely and get it back don’t you think after all she has done for us if we can help her find that, we should?”

“Fine, yes, you’re right. But you’ll watch out for her, right? You won’t let her get hurt?”

“As much as I can and she’ll let me. You’ll help me out and support me on this with her?”

“Yes but this better go the right way, if it goes bad she might not ever forgive us and I would hate for that to happen.”

“It will, you just have to be positive. Don’t focus on the bad, think of how good it could be for the both of them.”

Chapter One

A sigh of pleasure escapes me as I finish the last spoonful of chocolate mousse. I know I’ll pay for this later but I don’t care, it is so good and completely worth it. Setting down the small dish I hear a curse exhale from my boss sitting across me. He’s reading through his emails on his cell phone and I know I’m about to pay for this wonderful meal. Taylor Hunt is a great boss who is nice and easy to work with and has often taken me out for lunch in the past.

It never crossed my mind he was working toward getting me to look at him as a romantic interest and thank god I introduced him to my best friend and he’d fallen hard for her within minutes. Not until Christine and Taylor were safely married had Christine admitted to Taylor’s feelings. After my initial embarrassment, of how blind I was at the situation I had been simply relieved I hadn’t had to turn him down. Because I just couldn’t see us together in the slightest. Taylor is handsome in the blond haired, blued eyed, slim, way most women found appealing but I just didn’t feel anything for him in that way. Thankfully, we’d become friends and had enough respect for each other that it hadn’t been a big deal to continue to work for him.

Since he and Christine had married, he’d taken me out to lunch or even brought me back something but it wasn’t usually from a place where I know lunch would cost more than my whole grocery bill for the week. I know Taylor well enough to know there’s another motive behind this lunch. Of course I’ll give in, after pretending like I wouldn’t, just to fuck with him a little. Taylor’s so buttoned up and straight I enjoyed the few times I got to fuck with his composure. Seeming to feel my eyes on him he looks up and his blue eyes flicker in surprise, as if he had forgotten I was there. When Taylor is in work mode it happens often and I’m not insulted.

“Sorry, just checking in and hoping I’d heard back from Tim but nothing. That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about today. I need your help. We can call it a favor because I would really owe you, if you came through for me.”

I’m confused, a favor? Taylor doesn’t do favors. He hates to owe anyone anything. It was usually the reverse, he loves it when people owe him something. “What is it?”

“I need you to go get me Hank’s replacement. An old friend from Harvard is perfect for the job but he’s digging in his heels. He was the guy I went to see yesterday. I wasted my Monday on the road and now it’s your turn. You go out to him and bring him to Austin and let me do the rest. Once he’s here and sees everything, I know I can lock him in.”

“Why me?” Confusion deeper than before, a former Harvard graduate was really supposed to fill Hank’s position? Hank weighs almost three hundred pounds and at six foot five it’s all muscle, despite that he moved through the water like he was a weightless dancer. Hank is former Special Forces, a SEAL, I can’t see it. I’m also having a hard time seeing someone turn down Taylor. I’ve never seen it happen before. Taylor is the consummate charmer, he moves fluidly from one persona to another to fit the moment. I know his father had sent him off to Harvard from tiny Tyler Texas in the hopes of Congress or even higher but Taylor had disappointed his father on that end. He is, however, the head of a company that often did security for some heads of state.

“Honey trap, he saw your picture when you called me yesterday. He liked what he saw and for three whole minutes I had his attention. This isn’t me asking you to do anything with him, don’t look so surprised you know you’re attractive. Just you know, smile a little and turn on the charm. ”

I can feel the blush and hate it, “Taylor, seriously?”

“Cards on the table, Zoe, we badly need Sam. With Dean leaving last year and Hank leaving in a week we will be in a deep fucking hole. We are seriously understaffed on trainers and it is about to become a very big problem. I’ll take complete responsibility for that I got caught up with Christine and the wedding and wasn’t focused on my team. I had no idea Hank was already unhappy putting in overtime to make up for Dean so that when his wife mentions maybe going to Maryland to be near family he jumps at it.

Yes, I do think Dean will be back. What the fuck is he thinking going to Dallas with that gold digging slut? He’ll be back but for now I have taken on contracts adding people but not taken on new trainers to cover for that. Even before Dean left, apparently, Robert wanted to talk to me about taking on at least two new trainers but didn’t want to seem like he was complaining. Robert has someone in mind and he’s coming in from Virginia next Monday but even if he works out, I’ll still need Sam.

Sam is perfect. He graduated at the top of our class at Harvard. We weren’t best buddies at Harvard. We had a few classes together until the last two years where we didn’t have any but still saw each other on campus. Both of us being from Texas and the same year, we had Texas in common and people enjoyed teasing us about our accents and a few times we met up and commiserated on how different Boston was from Texas. From that time I know his character and was impressed by his intelligence and well he handles people.

Then I get the full picture on him from his time in the Rangers and he is a fucking dream come true. Everyone I talked to regrets he’s out. Hell, the only reason he’s out is because he saved four men pinned down along the wrong side of the border in Pakistan. Brass refused to give the okay to go in and retrieve them because it would have drawn attention that they were where they shouldn’t have been. Sam’s Rangers unit stationed four klicks away on the right side in Afghanistan hear the chatter over their radio and Sam says fuck’em and him and two others from the unit go in. He carried one guy almost the whole way back. They were almost home when they came across an IED and he took fire to chest and face, literally, his burns were pretty bad. The only reason he didn’t lose an eye is because of his eye gear and he didn’t panic. He came out with a Purple Heart and more scars than he’ll let anyone see, I’m sure.

Help me out here, he’s wasting away in Sweeney. He’s been all over the country, California, Florida, Chicago and then he went home but from what I’ve heard he’s barely left the house for anything other than to get a six pack.”

I’m not surprised about the training situation, I told Taylor we needed to fill the gap when Dean left, but it had gone in one ear and out the other. I force back the thought of reminding Taylor of that. It wouldn’t help the situation we’re in now. Sam sounds perfect for the job and I can understand and sympathize with his desire to curl up into a safe place. I also know it’s the worst thing he could do. Okay, so I’m avoiding men, but that’s men, not life. Taylor takes my silence as a refusal and lets out a heavy sigh.

“Fine, let’s make a deal here. There are only five months more left on the note on the house. I told you before, the rent you’ve been paying for the last year and a half has paid the monthly mortgage. You get Sam down here and when you pay it off in five months, you get the house. I’ll sign it over to you free and clear.”

“Are you serious?”

“You should know me by now. I don’t say what I don’t mean. You still have to be alright with guys from the company staying there but when the five months are up you can kick everyone out and it’s yours. Talent like this company demands means I can’t hire just any ex-soldier off the street. I need the best and Sam’s one of the best.”

Swallowing hard, I nod. “I’ll do it.”

“Good, you can drop me off at the office and you’ll drive my truck down there. I know you’re in love with your car but I don’t trust it to get you there and back.”

“Now, right now?”

“Yes, now. You bring him back tonight and I’ll be over to see him and pick up the truck tomorrow, if he won’t come into work with you.”

“Over to see him?”

“Well, of course he’ll need a place to stay and he’ll stay at the house like other new recruits in from out of town. Then once he settles in he’ll find his own place, I’m sure.”

I follow Taylor out of the restaurant and refuse to listen to the little niggles of concern about Sam staying at the house. It isn’t a big deal, in the last year there had been nine or ten men in and out of the place and it hadn’t been a big deal. Then again, Christine mentioned Taylor had made it clear I was spoken for before the men had set foot in the house. But now Taylor is wanting someone to stay in the house who has already taken an interest in me from my picture.

Dropping off Taylor back at the office, he makes sure I have the company card on me to pay for gas. He keys in the address for Sam into the navigation system on the dashboard and my phone, just in case, and I’m on my way.

Taking 71 east toward Houston, I push down my fears. Without vanity I know I’m attractive enough I shouldn’t be freaked out Sam took notice of my picture on Taylor’s phone. I’m not stunning or beautiful but I’ve heard the word pretty often enough I appreciate it but don’t let it go to my head. I have a heart shaped face with a wide smile guys trying to hit on me always mention first. They talk about my smile but I know it’s my curves that they’re thinking about. At five three I’m petite and curvy and I know that’s what really catches a guy’s attention. As other than my curves and smile there isn’t anything that remarkable about me, I have boring brown eyes and brown hair and a light olive complexion that tells me that my father was probably Hispanic. I can’t say for sure, I have no idea who my father is. I have only one picture of my mother but other than my mother’s small size I look nothing like her.

So what if Sam had taken an interest in my picture, once he met me he’d get over it pretty quickly. While I am good at doing the charming Taylor wanted and sometimes needed of me, that was in public. It wasn’t a big deal and easier than people made it out to be. All that was required was to let the other person do the talking with well placed questions and a nod or two of encouragement or apparent interest, keeping the questions and the focus on the other person. It was easy and that’s how I like it, with attention on the other person, that’s how I felt safest.

The real me wouldn’t be considered charming, I would be considered boring. I actually take pride in being boring. I don’t watch much television and spend my free time painting or reading the day away. Due to work, I keep up on world news and can discuss foreign current events easily and with confidence but that was satisfied easily by hitting news websites for a few minutes every day. That’s the extent of my internet activities, I’m so boring. No social websites or anything like that, unlike many of the people of my generation, I have no desire to put my private life on blast.

I’m a loner and I’m content with that. My one best friend is Christine and through Christine, Taylor and I have a stronger friendship than just boss and employee but that’s about it. I get along with most of my coworkers but I’m not one for gossip in the hallways and haven’t been to a happy hour in years and have no desire to attend one in the near future. Just before Christine married Taylor, she had warned me that all I needed was a couple of cats to complete the lonely spinster look. While my life wasn’t what I had thought it would be when I left Chicago. The dreams I once shared with Christine, fading with each mistake and year that passed, it didn’t bother me. The words had stung a little, I am only twenty nine, but they were true and I have no plans to change who I am and the way I live my life. Then again, the more I thought about it, the more a cat sounds nice. It’s too bad I’m allergic to cats.

Chapter Two

A little over three hours later and I am finally pulling into a long dusty drive almost twenty miles outside of Sweeney. It feels like the middle of nowhere and the place looks deserted. There isn’t a car or truck in front of th

e house and although there are several large low structures that look like a barn on steroids there is a thick layer of dirt and dust on everything. Even the house looks tired and dirty. Once, long ago, it had been white but now it’s a mottled gray and the roof appears to sag in places. Checking the navigation system, to make sure, it tells me I’m in the right place. Opening the door, the heat and humidity of a March day smacks me in the face, with a grimace I slide out of the large and comfortable truck and cross my fingers for central air.

Thankfully, my clothes are light enough the heat isn’t unbearable, even though it hadn’t been this bad in Austin. A black skirt grazes my knees, and goes with my button down blouse in a pale pink. Taylor likes me to look professional but isn’t rigid about wearing a suit or heels. Which was good for both of us because I needed flats in order to keep up with Taylor’s long legs that ate up the ground. Even though I’m petite it had never bothered me enough to master heels. I prefer the comfort of flats, or if I absolutely have to, a stacked heel of no more than two inches.

Not long after I started the drive I had pulled my hair out of the bun I’d worn to work. Now it flows freely and I wonder if I should put it up to look more professional. My hair is my one piece of vanity, it’s long, a few inches past my shoulders. I freely spend the extra money for the nice shampoos, conditioners and hair cuts. When women compliment me, it’s my hair they mention, and I’ve received several compliments. The only problem is it gets heavy, so even though it’s hot, I leave the covered elastic around my wrist and leave it free. Maybe if it gets really hard to convince Sam, I would have to do the flirty hair flip, one of the few girly moves I have down pat.

Taking the small three set of stairs up the wide porch, I’m surprised by the lack of movement from inside the home to find out who was here. Taylor’s truck is new but it has a powerful engine that idles loudly even as it purrs when it accelerates. I knock twice and wait but there’s no answer. Maybe no truck or car meant he isn’t home? Then Taylor’s words about Sam not leaving except to get a six pack comes back to me, I highly doubt I’ve missed him. More than likely he wasn’t laying out a welcome mat. Taylor had just been here yesterday and if you knew Taylor, you would know he didn’t take no lightly.

Biting the inside of my lip, I sigh, and knock again. It’s ignored and I eye the bright white truck with longing but remember what’s at stake. A home, all my own, no one could take it away from me. For that I’m willing to try, there’s no surprise when the doorknob turns and the door moves easily when I push inside. This is Texas in the middle of no where, the town probably took pride in not locking its doors.

Pushing open the door I take in a small, surprisingly clean, foyer. The front room that looks out onto the porch is an old fashioned sitting room, used for guests. It was also clean, with just the slightest layer of dust. The door across from the sitting room is an office, maybe a better word is was. It’s been trashed, violently. Closing my eyes against the violence, I breathe deep. The room tells me that Sam needs this job as badly as we need him. I find him in the den, sprawled out on a large and long leather couch. He’s asleep on his back and I have my answer to the ignored knocks. This room is his cave, the windows are closed, there’s delivery from a local pizza place and cans and bottles of beer of varying brands are littered everywhere.