Gently nudging and prodding, she got them all moving; first, the shy side step to side step, then getting a little more daring with twirls and a hip roll or two. Maura was happily sinking into the movement, tossing her long hair and losing herself into the darkness of music, feeling for the first time in forever like the weight of all the secrets she carried had disappeared. One hour passed, then another. Everyone was sweaty and flushed, but she was thrilled to see that none of them seemed to want to stop. A stern tap on her shoulder pulled her rather abruptly out of her fantasy. Turning around and ready to refuse someone intending to ask her to dance, the polite “No, thanks,” died on her lips as she stared at the stern visage of James Pine. "What are you doing here, Mr. Pine?"
"Looking for you," he said, staring disapprovingly at her group of open-mouthed women. Glancing back down at Maura, he said, "You need to come with me. Now."
Maura looked at her students, who were beginning to cower under his expression. Stepping closer to James, she said, "May I speak with you a moment? Privately." He took her by her upper arm, drawing her to a quiet corner. "Mr. Pine-" her head was spinning, but she tried to gather her thoughts. "These are students from my self-defense group. This is a big night for them, just going dancing after everything they've been through." She shifted uncomfortably, "I can't have them see that a man can order me away like I'm powerless."
He bent his dark head down to look directly into her eyes. "Youarepowerless," he told her evenly.
Maura clenched her teeth. "I am," she admitted. "But I chose this when I agreed to work for the Corporation. These women need to know that they still have a choice."
He looked at her for a long time, and then over her head at the little group of women staring at them. "Very well," he agreed. "I'll go upstairs and have a drink. Get your group set for home and meet me outside by the valet stand in forty-five minutes."
Maura felt ill and dizzy, but she was grateful that he'd given her some room. "I'll be there," she said, "thank you for waiting." Going back to the group, she plastered on a smile. "Come on!” she urged, "Let's keep dancing!" The women looked at her and then again at the well-tailored behind of her boss.
"Oh my God!" wheezed Martie, still trying to catch her breath, "He's freaking gorgeous!"
Jolene was her student who’d never lost her sass, and she winked at Maura, “I never had a boss who needed to talk to me about ‘business’ on a Friday night.”
"Dance, you gossips! Less talk, more dancing!" Maura urged, keeping a light smile on her face. She kept them moving for the next thirty minutes, acutely aware of the time winding down with a sense of doom. Finally, she admitted, "I've got to get home. Looks like I'm working early tomorrow." Her students happily bid her goodnight as she sent them home in a couple of cabs, slipping the drivers the fare and a generous tip.
Hitting the ladies’ room, Maura was embarrassed to realize she was renewing lipstick and brushing her hair. Taking a deep breath, she made her way outside to the valet stand. James was already waiting for her, leaning on the door of his Jaguar.
"Get in," he said, opening the passenger door for her. With a gloomy sense of sealing her fate, Maura did, carefully tucking her high heels into the car before he shut the door. There was dead silence for a few moments as James navigated Manhattan traffic.
"Where are you taking me?" Maura finally broke the silence.
James turned his icy blue gaze to hers with a calculated stare. "I'm taking you to dinner," he said.
Her fists clenched on the hem of her dress. "I thought this was a work requirement, Mr. Pine?" she asked. "This was a big night for my girls, and-"
He cut her off. "Itisa work obligation, MacLaren." They finally stopped in front of a stately three-story brick house in Hudson Yards. She was unsurprised that he’d settled in the new, multi-billion dollar neighborhood built to tower over the Hudson River. Opening her door, James’s hand reached to help her out of the sports car.
Maura stubbornly stayed put for a moment. "I thought we were going to dinner?" she questioned.
"We are," he said shortly, gently ushering her out of the seat.
Inside, she looked around at the shining entryway, impressed at how beautiful his surroundings were. Somehow, she'd always pictured the man living in an ice cave.Or a dungeon,she thought resentfully. This was new construction, sleek and clean lines, but with an “English manor” feel from the rich wood wainscoting and glossy floors. It was clearly professionally decorated - perfect little pillows and cashmere throws on the expansive sofas in the living room - but no personal items, no pictures of family or friends, no mementos from his past.
"Come into the kitchen," he urged, and she watched with an open mouth as he took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Her boss, the Crime Lord, proceeded to make her dinner- a paella bursting with plump shrimp, clams, and mussels, and uncorked a bottle of Kleine Zalae sauvignon blanc. The giant pan simmered on the stainless-steel Viking stove, which looked like it was used on a regular basis. The smell was heavenly as he briskly chopped up some fresh parsley and tarragon, sprinkling the herbs over the seafood. Maura hid a little grin behind her hand- the man had an inordinate amount of very, very sharp cooking knives. At least, she hoped he used them for cooking.
As James picked up the plates to walk into the chilly dining room, Maura held back. “Could we eat in here? It’s so nice,” she gestured toward the big wooden farm table that overlooked the water.
To her relief, he smiled and placed the food on the table, pouring her a glass of wine and lightly touching his glass to hers. “Enjoy,” he said, “I don’t believe I’ve cooked for anyone since I moved here.” The first bite made her emit an utterly inappropriate groan of appreciation. The paella was heaven, rich and lemony and it made her remember she hadn’t eaten all day. Looking up from her mouthful of heaven, she flushed to see James watching her with a faint smile.
They talked mainly about work activity at Jaguar Holdings, Maura trying to stick with the new spyware they were building for an Argentina affiliate. James poured himself another glass, then offered to fill hers. Maura shook her head with a nervous smile. The last thing she needed was to be drunk with her razor sharp-witted boss. He leaned back in his chair. "Where did you grow up?"
She took a sip from her glass, trying to steel her nerves. "I would imagine you already know, Sir. Like how you knew about my self-defense class, how you knew where I was tonight." She watched as a frown passed over his expression, like a cloud over the sun.Maybe I've already had too much wine,Maura thought.
"Humor me," he said shortly.
Maura sighed. "I was born in Belfast."
"And then?" he prompted.
"I earned a scholarship to Cambridge. Fortunately, I kept my grades high enough to get an early Master’s of Science."
"You're being modest," he said, eyeing her over his wine glass. "A full scholarship to Cambridge requires an exceptional performance."
Standing, Maura took her plate, then his. "Should I wash the dishes?" she asked, trying desperately to keep him off the subject.
