A Beauty Uncovered

What happened to him? How long had he been like that? How could he live his life separated from other people? Wasn’t he lonely? Why was he so unpleasant?

The “fix-it gene” in Sam was alight with the need to get her hands on Brody’s life and put it right. It seemed a shame to her that he was hiding. He was a smart, successful and handsome man. He shouldn’t let his accident keep him from living a full life.

Sam eyed the door to his office. She wanted to march in there, grab him by the hand and drag him out into the sunlight. It would be good for him, she was certain.

Then she saw it. The door was ever so slightly ajar. It hadn’t quite latched earlier. That was odd. Brody was always very meticulous about shutting and locking the door. His mind must be on other things.

Or maybe it was a subtle invitation. A subconscious slip. Sam wasn’t a big believer in accidents. Everything happened for a reason. What if Brody wanted a fuller, more open life, but didn’t know where to start? She could help him. Maybe he knew that. Could this be his way of reaching out?

“Sam, could you get me that new distribution proposal?” Brody’s voice crackled over the speakerphone.

“Yes, sir.”

Sam grabbed the file out of her inbox and let her gaze wander between the silver drawer and the unlatched door. She wasn’t sure if Brody left it open on purpose, but she decided to take the opportunity fate, or Brody, had provided.

She quickly reached down for her purse and pulled out her compact. Her makeup was good. Her blond curls were swept back into a messy bun today. Her lip gloss was still shiny. She looked great.

Getting up from her seat, she tucked the file under her arm and gently tugged down at the hem of her sweater dress. She smoothed over her wide, patent leather belt before reaching out and grasping the doorknob. She didn’t have to turn it. The light pressure was enough to unlatch it completely and the door swung open.

Sam poked her head into the dark room, expecting Brody to start yelling at her at any moment, but there was nothing. As her eyes adjusted, she noticed a pinball machine to her left. Beside it was a Track and Field arcade game. Both of them flashed and blinked, lighting the corner of the dim room. Beyond that, she spied a seating area with plush, leather couches. A small kitchenette with a sink and a refrigerator.

In the corner were a universal weights machine and a treadmill. That explained those arms. She half expected to see a bed, but that was the only thing missing. He had his own little world behind these doors.

Taking a step inside, she found his desk to the right. It was a large U-shaped configuration with multiple monitors and computers. The first two screens she looked at displayed the feed from the lobby surveillance cameras. He had a good view of her at her desk, despite the grainy black-and-white feed. He was currently facing the other direction or he would’ve seen her approach his door and come into his office space.

Sam took a deep breath and closed the gap between them in a few steps. The hum of the multiple computers and the constantly running air-conditioning unit disguised the click of her heels across the marble floor.

When she was about a foot behind him, Sam paused, looking down at a large bowl of multicolored jelly beans on his desk, giving a bright pop to an otherwise monochromatic space. Her bravery was waning. But it was too late to turn back. He’d likely notice her making a quick escape. Instead, she decided to wait a moment and see if he finally turned around. Saying his name would probably send him three feet out of his chair.

Sam’s gaze drifted past his shoulder to the screen he was staring so intently at. At the top was the name “Tommy Wilder” with a long series of links and descriptions that were too small for her to read. She’d never heard of Tommy Wilder. Then she spied the screen beside it, where her own name was shown just as prominently. Was he doing some kind of background check on her?

She couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips. She was close enough to Brody now that the small sound caused him to immediately spin in his chair to face her.

His initial look of surprise quickly morphed into anger as his jaw locked and his eyes narrowed at her. He stood up in one fluid movement and Sam took an instinctive step backward.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked. “How did you get in here?”

Sam clutched the file to her chest and took another step back as he charged forward. “I brought the file you w-wanted. The door was open and I—”

“What? You thought I left it open for you?” he interrupted her shaky explanation.

Apparently her ideas about Brody subconsciously reaching out to her were woefully incorrect. “No, I...” She didn’t have a better explanation. She took another two steps back, pausing when she felt the press of cold metal on her back. A quick glance showed her she’d backed herself against the pinball machine. With Brody moving closer, she was pretty much trapped there to take her punishment.

“What did you see?” he asked, pointing to his computers. “Tell me,” Brody demanded, his booming voice amplified by the acoustics of the dark room.

Sam was wide-eyed with confusion. He was mad that she was in there, but somehow he seemed more concerned that she was spying on him. What did she see? Nothing important. What did it matter, anyway? She had a confidentiality agreement in place. She could’ve seen the truth about the Roswell crash site and the JFK assassination and she couldn’t tell anyone. “Just some names. My name. Nothing else.”

Brody crowded into her space, placing his hands on each side of the pinball machine as though he were playing to prevent her escape. His blue eyes were nearly black in the dim lighting as he leaned into her.

Even with the file between them, Sam could feel the heat of his body penetrating her clothes. The scent of his cologne crowded her, filling her lungs as she took a deep breath to calm herself.

Goodness, but he was tall. In her four-inch heels, she was almost looking him in the eye, their bodies aligning perfectly. Her heart started racing as she thought about reaching out and touching him. Her touch before had been fleeting, innocent, yet powerful. She craved that connection again. It was a ridiculously counterproductive thought, given the man was in a big enough rage to fire her, not kiss her.

Sam licked her lips, noting his gaze dropped down to watch, then came back up to look into her eyes. She had her share of experience with men, and she knew when a man wanted her. Sam was surprised, given all the barriers Brody had deliberately put between them, but it was clear. He wanted her. Yet he was holding back.