Free LUST by Laura B. Cooper Page A

had been handled by our Charleston Broad Street
attorneys who doled out our trust funds as if they were doing us a
favor. Palmer and I both resented their snide attitudes when we’d
gone to them to ask for funds to move to New York, although they
couldn’t deny us Still, trust fund lawyers rarely liked to hand out
money, even when it belonged to the clients.
    Even though the two blocks to my office were
crowded with pushy New Yorkers, I couldn’t say that I didn’t like
the place. No, I was just overwhelmed by it. However, I was glad
that I’d chosen to wear my running shoes for the walk. When I
finally pushed through the twelve foot tall glass doors into the
Michaud Building I felt like I’d been through a hurricane. The wind
had whipped my hair into frenzy, and my family heritage of keeping
it neat and orderly was in serious jeopardy. Of all the genes they
had to pass along, I somehow managed to get unruly hair. I’d have
much preferred a flatter chest, or even blue eyes, instead I found
my way to a bench in the lobby and sat down to smooth my overly
curly blond locks.
    I sat my bag on the bench beside me and
occupied myself with pulling the rubber hair tie that was so
unsuccessfully holding my hair into a ponytail. I swung my head to
shake the specks of rain from it and reached down to untie my
tennis shoes. After sitting them on the bench beside me, I pulled
my black heels from my bag and slid them onto my feet. I admired
the stylishness of them, and made a mental note to thank Palmer for
choosing them for me. With a small struggle I moved towards
smoothing my hair back. I reached back, searching blindly for the
hair band on the bench when I noticed it lying on the floor at my
feet. When I’d changed shoes, I must have managed to swipe it off
the bench.
    I bent low to pick it up when a thick hand
appeared in my vision at the floor in front of me, grabbing the
hair band just before my fingers touched it. “Here you go,” my mind
registered the voice instantly. The smooth English accent made my
skin flush. Thick, muscular hands held my hair band in front of me.
I looked up suddenly, my face now level with his crotch where I
couldn’t help notice the bulge there, even through the Amosu slacks
that covered it. “Thank you,” I moaned as I carefully studied the
hair band in his outstretched palm. I hesitated to touch him again;
the memory of the feel of his hand yesterday warned me. With the
delicacy of a bird I pecked it from his hand.
    “You’re welcome Liz, are you ready to start
your first day?”
    I frowned, how did he know it was my first
day? “Yes, I am,” I flustered. “Do you work here too?”
    He laughed as he towered over me, “As a
matter of fact I do!” Again his mammoth size and deep, dark
appearance sent shivers through my blood. There was a foreboding
that came with this man, it screamed to me to stay as far away from
him as possible. He no longer donned the casual attitude that he’d
worn yesterday. His suit alone cost more than my entire education.
It was black pin stripe, and beneath it a starched white button
down complimented a red power tie. Black leather Italian made shoes
that were large enough to be used as flotation devices matched the
belt that accented his waist. Clearly fashion wasn’t something he
ignored; Palmer would have an absolute fit to see his suit!
    With my hair back into some sort of control
I stood and shoved my tennis shoes into my bag. Standing in front
of him I smiled politely, “Well, it’s good to see you again
Carlton.” I walked away from him towards the bank of turnstiles and
elevators, flashing my badge at the security guards as I passed
them. The elevator doors opened and I filed inside along with
twenty of my new co-workers. Carlton was the last person to climb
aboard before the doors closed. His eyes searched the car and
landed on mine with fire.
    “Good morning Mr. Michaud!”
    “Good morning Mr. Michaud.”
    “Mornin’ Mr. Michaud.”
    Oh no…