Page 6 of Dante (Members From Money Season 2. #153)

She almost sighed when she saw the man seated on the tiny porch, long legs propped up on the railing. She had taken her shoes off the minute she got into the car and exchanged them for the pair of comfortable tennis shoes she kept around the back.

Her arches were screaming and her back felt as if it had opened up somehow. Slinging her pocketbook over her shoulder, she shut the door and ascended the steps.

"What are you doing here?"

He merely lifted a brow and patted the space next to him. "Now, is that any way to greet your favorite brother?"

"My only brother who's becoming a pain in the ass." She sat and kicked off her shoes, wriggling her feet to get rid of the tension. "Don't tell me. You just happened to be in the neighborhood."

"That's right." He turned sideways to stare at her quizzically. "Patrolling the neighborhood."

"You don't patrol."

"I do, when my sister lives in said neighborhood." Putting down his beer, he grabbed her feet and started to knead her insteps. "Long day. How was it?"

Leaning back, she closed her eyes and almost whimpered in delight as the tension eased away as if by magic.

And proceeded to tell him about her day.

His chuckle had her smiling as she told him of the confrontation inside her boss's office first thing in the morning.

"You thought he was going to fire you?"

"Yep. He looked pissed enough to tell me to get the hell out of his building. I was on tenterhooks the entire time."

"How's he to work for?" Caleb had moved up to her calves, with his magic fingers. She was feeling so loose, she was afraid of falling asleep right here in the chair.

"Tough and exacting. He keeps me on my toes.

But I love it. The work is challenging." She turned her head up and sniffed the air.

Rain coming, she mused. There was wind whistling through the trees and suggesting the hint of fall that was almost here.

"He's also super smart and intuitive. He knows his stuff.

He's a force, dynamic, kind of like a hurricane gathering speed. "

"I sat in at two meetings and admired his train of thought and the way he has about him. Nothing gets by him."

Her brother gave her a curious look as he went back to her feet. "You're impressed."

"Oh, yes I am. He's a jerk and not much of a people person, but he's a brilliant businessman.

I tried not to listen to the gossip floating around, but it could not be helped.

The women were clearly envious of my 'exalted' position as they called it.

Seems they had been hoping to be sitting where I am. "

"I was also warned not to try and get too close, or it would be the end of me.

" She grinned wryly. "A very striking brunette from HR just happened to wander up when he was out of the office and had a 'chat'.

Obviously she was one who had designs on his body and was suffering from rejection or whatever the hell it was. "

"She wanted to know how come I got the position and what I had to do to get it. Ms. Carstairs did not mingle with the lesser people at the company and was fiercely loyal to the boss. I'm taking a leaf from her book. It might not make me popular with the staff, but who gives a crap?"

He grinned at her. Setting her feet down, he rose.

"Where are you going?"

"I think you need some tea." Reaching a hand, he hauled her to her feet. "I took the liberty of making some chicken soup as well."

"No wonder I love you so much." Wrapping her hand around his waist, she leaned in. "You know, being so busy today, I never had time to think about my situation."

His expression sobered. Pushing open the door, he guided her in and locked it behind them. Leading the way to the tiny kitchen, he turned to the stovetop to put the kettle on.

"That's a good thing. How did you feel? Any queasiness?"

She shook her head. "I suppose it's too early for that." She propped her chin on her fist and smiled at him. "Enough about me, tell me about your day."

The dreams came that night. Desperate ones that had her thrashing around on the bed. Dreams that had plagued her during her time in the group home, scenarios that plagued her and dragged her into a hole deep enough to have her cowering in fear.

This one had to do with being left at the home alone, without her brother being there to take care of her. Of her being shoved and bullied by the bigger kids because she had been so skinny and sickly. She was about to be shoved into a tiny closet when she woke up, the scream trapped in her throat.

Scrambling to the head of the bed, she drew her knees up in defense and wrapped her arms around them as she tried to calm her breathing and get rid of the shakes.

She supposed it was the excitement of the day and the directions her life had suddenly taken.

She was pregnant and alone. No! She had her brother.

She was never alone. He had always been there for her.

He had protected her, hadn't he? During the years they had spent at that horrible place. Hadn't he shielded her from everything?

Caleb had always been big, even at that tender age.

And mean. Had to be for them to survive their situation.

She had gotten there as well. He had been determined to teach her how to survive in a rough world where people did not give a hoot if you were a defenseless child.

He sat her down and talked to her. Had never sugar coated anything but gave it to her straight.

"What if something happens to me, huh? What the hell are you going to do if I'm no longer here? You must learn to take care of yourself, Court."

"You cannot leave." She whimpered.

"I'm not saying I will. Not deliberately. But anything can happen." And he had taught her how to fight. Later when she was older, they both had joined a kickboxing class and learned the ropes.

Rubbing her hand over her face, she took several deep breaths.

Glancing at the bedside clock, she stifled a groan.

It was only two AM, and she had an early start.

It would not do for her to drag herself into the office looking like a hag.

Swinging her legs off the bed, she decided that some tea would come in handy.

"Hey beautiful lady, wait up." She turned and smiled as Devon McIntosh jogged into the elevator as she touched the button. "What are you doing here so early? Is our boss that much of a slavedriver?"

"I prefer to get here early and get a head start."

His eyes twinkled at that, and he took the short time to admire her shape in the chic black pantsuit and creamy colored blouse.

Her face was glowing, eyes bright and intelligent and he had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

He wondered how difficult it would be to get her to go out with him.

He was also thinking of the wisdom of it.

He had seen the way his friend reacted when he mentioned something like that.

"What are you doing here so early?"

"My boss is a slavedriver." He grinned and pressed his hand onto the door so she could step out.

"I have something to leave on his desk. I am heading out for a meeting and would like him to have it for his meeting with some associates.

" He trailed behind her as she stepped into her office and went behind the desk.

"Would you feel comfortable leaving it with me? Or do you prefer to take it in?" She looked up as he came forward.

"You're his trusted assistant, so of course, I'll leave it with you." He placed the thick folder in front of her and admired the curve of her graceful neck. "I was--" His voice petered off when the phone rang.

"Mr. Livingston's office." She listened for a second and started jotting down notes. "I'll get on it right away." Hanging up the phone, she spared him a distracted look. "That was our boss, and he needs some information immediately."

"That's my cue to leave." He sighed. "See you later."

With an absent wave, she returned to her desktop and the start of her day.

She had been there a week when it happened.

The morning had been crazy as usual and by the afternoon, she was swamped with returning emails, and fielding calls for her boss.

She had become accustomed to him calling her into the office and shooting off some emails or dictating letters or handing him reports from a meeting.

He was demanding and brusque, but she did not mind one bit.

They had gotten into a kind of routine that suited her.

Devon had taken to swinging by the office to bring a sandwich or just to have a conversation. But only when the 'field was clear'.

She was in the middle of finishing up a report when she glided in.

And that was the most appropriate term she could think of.

The woman came walking in, the swirl of flowery perfume and sex appeal following in her wake.

Courtney recognized her instantly. Magda Deloitte's face was splashed across enough magazines for her to be anonymous.

Courtney could not help the twinge of envy as she glanced at the woman's obvious beauty and the ease at which she wore the stunning designer dress and shoes. Her thick dark hair was a waterfall down her back, and she was fully made up. A cashmere wrap was draped over her left shoulder.

Courtney started to offer a polite smile, when the woman gave her a slightly puzzled and disapproving look. "Where's Mrs. Carstairs?" She demanded, husky bedroom voice unpleasant. That did it.

"May I help you?" Her coolly professional voice did not sit well with a woman who was used to getting a lot of attention.

"I'm here to see Dante."

"Do you have an appointment, Ms.--" Deliberately, Courtney glanced down at the schedule she had in front of her.

"It's Magda and I do not need one. Where's Ms. Carstairs?" The tone was cold and superior, the woman's stance militant.

"Ms. Carstairs is no longer here. And you do need an appointment."

"Now look here--"

"Mr. Livingston is currently pressed for time. If you would care to leave a message--"

"You--"