Escaping Reality

Mountain Time, people are casually
    strolling the sidewalks and the city is far from dead.
    With my apartment key in my hand, I glance behind me to find more
    stores and a hotel, and then forward again where apartment balconies
    seem to sit above the retail stores.
    “Hang onto my bags,” I hear Liam tell the driver, before he joins me,
    my joke of a suitcase and my bag in tow. “What apartment number?”
    “222, but I don’t see an entrance.”
    “The driver said there’s an elevator entrance beside the kitchen
    store.”
    Spotting the “Sur Le Table” sign he must be talking about, I turn to
    Liam and reach for my suitcase. “Thanks for the ride.”
    He holds on to both of my bags. “You’re alone in a new city. I’m not
    letting you go inside an apartment you’ve never seen before by yourself.”
    “The driver—”
    “Has been tipped well.” He motions me forward and starts walking,
    effectively giving me no room to argue.
    Staring after him, I am on unsteady ground, inexperienced with a
    man as dominant and stubborn as this one. I didn’t think this part of the
    evening through when I accepted the ride. I have no idea what awaits me at
    the apartment. What if there is something I can’t let Liam see?
    Double-stepping in my high heels and not all that gracefully, I catch
    up to him. “You really don’t have to—”
    He cuts me a sideways look. “Right. I don’t have to. You don’t have
    to. But we are, baby, and we both know it.”
    My heart sputters at the obviously naughty sexual reference. “I was
    talking about walking me to the door. You don’t have to walk me to the
    door.”
    He shoots me an evil smile. “I wasn’t.”
    “Liam—”
    “Amy.” We stop at an elevator and he punches the button,
    amusement dancing in his eyes. “When do you start work?”
    The elevator dings and opens. “I don’t know.” I dart inside the car,
    trying to think of an answer that isn’t a lie.
    He steps in beside me and punches the button. “You don’t know?”
    “I’m supposed to get settled first.”
    He scowls, and even his scowl is handsome. “How well do you know
    your new employer?”
    Now I scowl. “How well does anyone know their employer?”
    “You moved here for this person.”
    “A job is not a person, and I know just as much about him as I do
    you.” The elevator opens again and I don’t give him time for a rebuttal. I
    step into a carpeted hallway that reminds me of a hotel corridor and note
    the sign pointing me to my right.
    “Your boss didn’t make sure you got here safely tonight,” he points
    out as he joins me, and we make our way to the last apartment at the end
    of the hallway. “I did. Do you have your key?”
    I hold it up between two fingers and stop in front of the assigned
    door. I just can’t think of it as “my door”. “I’m all set.”
    “I’m coming in to make sure you’re safe.”
    “This is good,” I assure him quickly.
    “You have no idea what waits on you inside.”
    Exactly. “An empty apartment and I don’t know you, Liam. I can’t
    invite you inside.”
    And I have no idea what makes me say it, but I add, “Not tonight.”
    “That’s better than not ever,” he comments. “But I’m not a serial
    killer and for all I know, your new boss is. Let me check the place out for
    you. You can stay outside while I do.”
    “I’m not letting you in.”
    He leans in close and presses his hand on the door above me. I can
    feel the heat rushing off his body. And as silly as it seems, I can’t explain it,
    but I can almost taste the masculine scent of him. Or maybe I just want to
    taste him . “I’m going to get a room across the street,” he informs me.
    “Your hotel is across the street?”
    “It is now. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes with a list of restaurants
    open at this time of the night we can choose from. My name is Liam Stone,
    Amy. Look me up on your computer. Then you’ll know I’m trustworthy.”
    “I don’t have a computer.”
    “Or enough clothes to be moving from state to state.”
    I left myself wide open for that one. “I had them shipped along with
    my computer.”
    He doesn’t look convinced. “Right. Of course. Look me up. Use your
    cell phone.”
    “It’s broken. I have to get a new one tomorrow.”
    “It’s broken.” His tone is flat.
    “Yes. It’s broken.”
    He considers me a moment. “Stay here and don’t go inside yet.”
    Without further explanation, he walks toward the