Make Me Need. Katee Robert

       CHAPTER ONE

      TRISH LIVINGSTON DIDN’T do sad. Life was too short to focus on the negative crap. No matter how bad things got, it could always be worse.

      Granted, she wasn’t exactly sure how much worse her life could get. She was drowning in student loans, living with her wonderfully understanding but ultimately smothering parents and the only job she could get was one with her older brother’s cybersecurity company.

       Positive, Trish. You could be homeless. Your parents could be awful people—or gone completely. You could have as few job prospects as you did two weeks ago.

      She smoothed a shaking hand down her skirt and squared her shoulders. Maybe this wouldn’t be so unnerving if Aaron was actually here to introduce her to his partner and walk her through her responsibilities. But his fiancée had had their baby a week earlier than expected, so he was currently playing the doting father. He’d offered to slip away for a few hours, of course. That was what her brother did—took care of everyone around him. She’d declined because that was what she did—smoothed waves and gave people what they really wanted.

      The elevator shuddered to a stop and the door slid open, removing any chance she had to change her mind. Trish smoothed her hair back as best she could, pasted a bright smile on her face and stepped out.

      From what Aaron said, this entire floor was Tandem Security offices, which seemed a little strange since it was the two of them, but who was she to complain? Trish eyed the front office. Not the most welcoming first impression. A layer of dust covered the desk and she’d been under the impression that plastic plants couldn’t actually die, but the teetering tree in the corner threatened to make a liar of her. Even the chairs were eyesores, a perfectly functional beige...that belonged in a hospital waiting room somewhere.

      She walked over and sank into one and grimaced. Thought so. Whoever had designed these chairs didn’t want the occupants to spend any amount of time in them. She shook her head and muttered under her breath, “Well, this is what Aaron hired you for. Apparently he actually does need someone—desperately.”

      “What do you want?”

      She jumped to her feet and teetered in her cotton candy–pink heels. “Sorry, I was just trying out the chairs and...” She trailed off as she caught sight of the guy who’d snarled at her. He wore a pair of faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt that stretched tight across his impressive chest and set off his dark brown skin to perfection. A chiseled jaw and shaved head completed the picture and made her mouth water.

      At least right up until she registered who this must be.

      Trish turned her smile up to an eleven and stepped forward. “Cameron O’Clery? I’m Trish Livingston. Aaron was understandably occupied, so he said I should just head over here and make myself at home.” She held out a hand until it became clear he had no intention of shaking it. Undeterred, she dropped it and smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle from her skirt. “I know he mentioned this place needed a bit of a face-lift, but I never realized my brother had quite such a gift for understatement.”

      He stared and finally shook his head. “Info is in the top drawer of the desk. Do what you want.” Cameron turned and stalked down the hallway and out of sight.

      Trish frowned. She rounded the desk and pulled open the creaky drawer. The only things in it were a credit card with Tandem Security’s name on it and a paper with account names and passwords written out in neat block lettering. A little more snooping found a brand-new laptop tucked in the next drawer down. Trish shot a look down the hall, but since Cameron hadn’t made an appearance, she shrugged and booted it up. Typing in the websites listed brought up accounting software, an email address and the company software itself. She scrolled through the list of clients—past and present—and sighed. This would be a lot easier if I had a little guidance.

       Chin up, Trish. You know how to make the best of any situation. This is no different.

      She stood and propped her hands on her hips. Since she had to start somewhere, the waiting room was the way to go. Aaron had hired her to redesign the office space, liaise with incoming clients and provide general support to him and Cameron. She turned in a slow circle again, mentally tallying everything she needed to accomplish her first goal. No reason to pay top dollar for everything. It didn’t matter if the company could afford it or not. Even bargain shopping, it would be a chunk of change to do it all at once, so she’d roll up her sleeves and save costs wherever she could.

      She palmed the credit card and headed into the back offices. There were no plaques or signs to indicate where anything was, but only one door had light coming from beneath it, so she headed in.

      “I’m busy.” Cameron didn’t even bother to look up from his monitor.

      Good grief. If this is his attitude, I can see why Aaron needed someone to handle clients. She didn’t let her smile slip, though. “I can see that, so I won’t take much of your time.” Trish held up the credit card. “Just let me know the budget for the front office and I’ll be out of your hair. Or, well, you have a shaved head so...” She smiled harder. “Sorry, I’m wasting time with babbling. Budget, please.”

      His dark brows drew together and he finally deigned to look directly at her. “What?”

      “A budget. For the front office.” The urge to keep talking bubbled up, but she pressed her lips together to prevent the words from escaping. Call it a hunch, but Cameron O’Clery didn’t seem the type of man to appreciate small talk or meandering conversational threads.

      His frown didn’t clear. “Spend whatever you want.”

      Lord, grant me patience. She crossed her arms over her chest. “With respect, I do better when I have clear guidelines. A budget would be helpful.”

      Cameron cursed, as if this two-minute conversation had taxed what little patience he had. “Spend what you need to. If I think you’re out of line, I’ll tell you.”

      Of that, she had no doubt.

      Recognizing this was a losing battle, Trish edged back out of the office. “I’ll just get started, then.”

      “Do that.” He turned back to his monitor, and it was as if he’d forgotten she was in the room.

      She’d never been so summarily dismissed in her life, and Trish couldn’t deny that it rankled. She opened her mouth, but common sense got the