Chosen for Power (Women of Power, #1) (12 page)

“Come on, Elle. Let’s get you into bed.”

“I’m sorry, I never asked how your day went,” Elle said as she hid a yawn with her small hand.

“It was good. Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow,” he told her as he pulled out her chair and slipped his arm around her waist. She laid her head on his shoulder and let him guide her to the bedroom. The celebration could wait. Tonight he was going to take care of the woman who filled his heart.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Drake rolled over and threw his arm around Elle to pull her against him. His arm landed on the cool sheets instead of the warm, curvy body of his girlfriend. With his eyes still closed to the early morning light, he felt around the bed. He opened his eyes and discovered she was gone.

With a sigh, he sat up in bed and looked around the room. It wasn’t even six in the morning and there was no sign of her anywhere. He stumbled to the bathroom and saw the sticky note on the mirror.
Had to leave early. Won’t be home until late. Love you, E.
He wouldn’t be home tonight either. Tonight the guys were coming over to his place to watch the basketball game. But it looked like Elle forgot. Drake stepped into the shower and tried not to feel disappointed as the hot water washed over him.

The sweat rolled down Elle’s back as she punched the heavy bag over and over again. When Finn said he'd take her to his gym, she pictured her gym with a high glass entranceway and fancy new machines. Not a literal hole in the wall of some old warehouse. Inside was dimly lit, with punching bags along the perimeter and square padded rings in the middle. Some men boxed, some did karate, and some looked to be practicing mixed martial arts. Instead of fancy equipment, there were some benches and free weights scattered around the room.

To say she had been hesitant when she walked in was an understatement. As her eyes adjusted to the full gym, she noticed the smiles the men cast in welcome. She recognized a couple of them from music or sports. They all chatted with Finn and smiled at Elle in her pink workout shirt. But then Tigo, the owner of the gym, made his way over to them and the men went back to their workouts.

Finn introduced her to a man who had once trained professional boxers. When Finn explained why she was here, the tough man softened and took her under his wing. He called over a few of the men she’d met and they spent hours training: how to throw an effective punch, how to grapple, how to fight in close spaces, how to disarm, and now Tigo had her working the bag.

“It takes thousands of repetitions for your muscles to remember it. You want to be able to have punched so many times that your body will automatically do it before your mind has had time to process the threat,” Tigo explained from his place beside her.

Elle punched the bag again and again until her knuckles swelled and her arms felt as if they would fall off.

“Good. Now you come back tomorrow and do it again,” Tigo said before walking away.

Elle collapsed onto one of the benches and let her arms dangle as she lay down.

“I’m impressed, Miss Simpson. I didn’t think you had it in you to last three hours here,” Finn grinned from where he stood over her.

“After all of this, I would appreciate it if you called me Elle. You’re a good friend, Finn.”

“Well, thank you. You’re a good woman. And one who’s going to be late for work if she doesn’t haul ass.”

Elle groaned. “I don’t know if my arms work.”

“Here, put this on. It smells horrible, but it works.” Finn tossed her a container she thought was face cream. It bounced off her chest as she couldn’t move her arms fast enough to catch it.

“Thanks,” Elle picked it up and opened it. She almost found herself flat on her back again. Horrible didn’t begin to describe the smell. She just hoped she had enough perfume to cover the scent or her business meeting that morning was going to be very awkward.

*     *     *

Drake’s eyes flew over the code of a program one of his techs had brought in. In his mind, the numbers and symbols came alive and he saw the working program play like a movie. He was lost in it when he suddenly got the feeling of being watched. A shiver ran down his spine and his hair stood on end. Slowly he raised his head. The
I’ve Forgotten More About Sex Than You’ll Ever Know
bumper sticker across the front of a walker was his first clue to who was waiting for him. He’d been so immersed in the program that he hadn’t heard the door open and the walker roll to a stop in front of him.

“Shirley,” Drake said, trying to quell the embarrassment caused by allowing a woman old enough to remember the dinosaurs sneak up on him.

“Mr. Charles, I think we need to have a talk.” Shirley slid her dentures around menacingly and Drake cringed. When his mother used those words it was never good. He didn’t know what he did, but he knew he was in trouble.

“Of course, what can I do for you? And, please, have a seat. Can I get you anything?”

“Tea would be lovely, thank you.”

Drake buzzed Phillip. A second later Phillip strode into the room and stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening to a point Drake thought they might fall out. Shirley looked behind her and smiled innocently. “Hello, handsome.”

Drake hid his laugh behind a cough. It was clear Shirley had somehow managed to get into the office without Phillip knowing. That feat alone would give Drake something to tease his best friend about for months.

“Could you bring us two cups of tea, please?” Drake managed to ask as he tried to control his laughter.

Phillip shook his head as if to clear it and then his famous playboy smile filled his face. “Anything for my gal Shirley.”

“Oh, you whippersnapper. If I was fifty years younger . . .”

Did she just purr? Drake and Phillip both flushed red. After a wink, Phillip hurried from the room.

“So young, so stupid,” Shirley laughed as she shook her head. “It’s amazing you men can still survive in this world. Speaking of stupid,” Shirley narrowed her eyes at him.

“Me? What did I do?” Drake didn’t know why, but he knew he was about to be taken to the woodshed.

“Let me tell you a story,” Shirley started, but then stopped as Phillip brought in the tea.

As he placed the cup down on the table next to Shirley, she reached out and patted his hand. “You should take care of that rash, dear. Don’t want it to get worse.”

Phillip’s face went white and then red with embarrassment. “How did you know?”

“I heard you talking to yourself as you looked at it when I went by your desk.”

Phillip’s eyes flew to Drake’s face. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s just athlete’s foot. I swear.”

Drake just shook his head and smiled. Phillip was never going to hear the end of this. He was going to tell this story every year at the annual convention. Phillip finally threw his hands up and stalked out the room.

“Now, you were about to tell me a story,” Drake reminded her as she took a sip of her tea.

“That’s right. This story starts with a woman who worked at a railroad company and a dashing young man bent on making a better life for his family.”

Drake listened as Shirley told how she and Mr. Simpson met when he came to human resources to make sure all his checks were mailed straight to his wife. He had shown Shirley pictures of his children and told her about his family. Shirley had felt a pang of envy; while she and her husband had a grand love affair, they were never blessed with children.

“Five years after meeting him, he found me having lunch in a diner close to our headquarters. He wanted to buy up some railroad tracts. My husband had been a higher-up in the company and knowing we were friends gave me some tips that I passed along to Mr. Simpson.

"Gerald and I retired and moved to Florida. We were going to enjoy our golden years in style. And we did. We took cruises and fell in love all over again. But way too soon, the good Lord took him away from me. I was in a state where I knew no one, with a house that only reminded me of my Gerald, and the prospect of doing absolutely nothing for the rest of my life.”

Drake saw the way her cup teetered as she placed it on the saucer. “I’m sorry for your loss, Shirley.”

“Fiddle-de-dee. That was over twenty years ago now.” She tried to pass it off, so Drake let her. It hit him that he’d feel the same way if something happened to Elle, and he suddenly had the urge to call her.

“There were only a couple people at the funeral and each had said their piece and left. I sat looking at the coffin for I don’t know how long,” Shirley continued. “I remember sitting there wishing for something to take the pain and loneliness away. I looked up and saw a sight I’ll never forget. Mr. and Mrs. Simpson strode toward me, hand in hand, with their four children following close behind.

“Reid, a junior in high school, came and stood behind me with a hand on my shoulder. Bree and Elle stood beside me, each taking a hand in theirs. Little Allegra bent down and picked up my purse and smiled at me. I looked up at Margaret standing in front of me with her hand clasped in her husband’s. She looked at me and with a tone that brokered no argument said, ‘We’ve come to take you home, Shirley.’”

Drake looked away as Shirley dabbed at her eyes. He could envision it as if he had been there.

“I looked around, stunned. They weren’t my family. But they had driven all the way from Atlanta to be with me. They helped me pack up our condo and put it up for sale. A week later I was part of the family, living with them in a tiny house as the girls bunked in one small room to let me have my own space. For a while I sat as the world went on around me. But at dinner I listened to Mr. Simpson talk about the small business he wanted to grow.

“Soon he was asking my opinion and one day he dragged me to his office. It was a small room in a seedy strip mall next to a travel agency. The next day as I sat in their home, I felt restless so I went to the office and offered to help with filing. Then I started answering phones. A year later we moved to a small building two blocks over. Two years after that we moved into a single floor of the building we are in now.”

“The story of Simpson Global is truly amazing. Elle told me some of this, but I appreciate you sharing more.”

“Oh, it’s not just the story of Simpson Global I’m here to talk about. It’s the people. They’re my family. When Mr. Simpson died and Elle was thrust into the position to save the company, she almost quit. She was so heartbroken over the loss of her father and so outnumbered when it came to the number of people who believed in her that I found her alone one night exhausted and crying, but no tears were able to fall. She’d cried them all out of her little body. Everyone was against her. Her own mother supported her in everything she did but told her no one would think less of her if she sold the company. Reid left for Europe the week after his father was buried. Bree and Allegra were too young to understand what had been placed at Elle’s feet.”

The image of Elle, broken and defeated, tore at Drake’s heart. She wasn’t like that. She was strong. She was independent. She was the smartest, most amazing woman he’d ever known.

“I can’t see Elle defeated. I just can’t. She’s so strong.” Suddenly an image of Elle exhausted at her desk filled his mind and he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Even strong women need help sometimes. Just like strong men sometimes need the support of a good woman,” Shirley said knowingly as she kept her eyes locked with his. “But I wouldn’t let this happen to the family that saved me in my darkest hour. Even as she refused my help, I stood by Elle and whispered words of encouragement while Margaret grieved, while Reid disappeared to gamble with his inheritance, and while Allegra and Bree finished college. And I was there when that good-for-nothing Chord came around. And I was there picking up the pieces of Elle’s broken heart when he betrayed her.”

“That won’t happen again. I’m nothing like Chord. I will never betray her,” Drake said passionately. He didn’t know he could respect Elle anymore than he already had, but he did. Knowing what she went through to keep the family company alive . . . it was nothing short of the bravest thing he’d ever heard.

“You won’t on purpose. But you already have,” Shirley said quietly.

“What?” Drake’s voice was harsh with surprise. He’d never betray her.

“Drake, I’m seeing all the signs from eight years ago. The stress, the long hours, the dark circles under her eyes. At least this time she has Finn and Jessica. They are the ones taking care of her. Making sure she eats. Making sure she gets home every night. But today she came into the office smelling so bad I had to spray her down with air freshener before a meeting. Her arms were trembling from exhaustion. I asked her what was the matter, but she said nothing.
Nothing
, Drake. You do know when a woman says nothing is the matter, it’s the complete opposite, right?”

“Yes, I do know that. When I saw her last night I noticed the exhaustion. I fed her dinner and tucked her into bed. She was gone when I woke up. What’s going on, Shirley?”

“Shouldn’t you know? You’re her boyfriend, aren’t you?”

The question hit him hard. He was and he had no idea what had pushed her this far. The damn file on Chord had been sitting on his desk for a week, but he’d been so occupied with correcting the IP address program for the government that he hadn’t even been paying attention to it or to what was going on with Elle. He just assumed after the press conference two weeks ago everything was fine. Sure she was working long hours, but so was he. If she needed help, surely she would have asked him . . . right?

Drake ran his hand over his face. “Something bad is going on and I’ve been so caught up in my work I haven’t bothered to find out what it is.”