Authors: srbrdshaw
Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #suspense, #mystery, #mystery romance, #mystery suspense
Will doesn’t listen to me, and he quickly
heads to the back door.
“Be careful!” I demand.
I quickly dry off, put the towel around my
head, and slip on my robe.
Will comes back through the back door a few
minutes later. “I looked all around the house. Nothing. I’m sure
he’s long gone.”
“Thanks for looking, Will. I’m so glad you’re
here right now.” I put my arms around him and give him a big hug.
Will returns the hug and strokes my back.
“I’m glad I’m here right now, too,” he says.
He lets go of me and looks me in the eye. “I know things didn’t
really go well this evening, but at least one good thing came out
of tonight’s events.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
“I got to see you naked!” I laugh and lightly
punch Will in the arm.
“It didn’t happen how I imagined it would
happen, but I’ll take what I can get.”
“You are too funny. I’m glad you enjoyed it
at least,” I say.
“Oh, I sure did. That’s an image I’m not
going to let escape from my mind for a looooong time.”
Will has a way of making me forget about all
the shit going on in my life. He makes me feel protected and safe
and that’s exactly what I need right now.
“Why don’t you get dressed while I check all
of your locks?” Will says.
“That sounds like a good idea.”
Once again, Will spends the night at my
house. I really want him to sleep in my bed with me. I want to fall
asleep with his arms around me, but I know it’s not a good idea. I
set up the couch for him and say good night, and Malcolm and I
retreat to my room. I lie awake for a while thinking about James
and Will and what I should do. Should I still pursue James? Does he
even care about me? The only emotion he seems to show toward me is
jealousy. Will obviously cares about me, but could I really be with
him - an artist who doesn’t have his life straight? I finally put
the thoughts out of my head and think about having dinner with
Harley tomorrow. It will be nice to catch up with her.
When I arrive at work the next morning,
there’s an e-mail from James telling me to get to work on a new
project and that he won’t be in the office at all. He wants the
work done by this evening and has given me almost no direction. I
sigh loudly. I’m not in the mood for this today.
“What’s buggin’ you, Miss Jo?” Debbie says as
she pokes her head into my office.
I look up from my computer screen. “Oh,
nothing much.”
Debbie fully enters my office and stands in
front of my desk. “I don’t think I believe that.” She puts her hand
on her hip. “You know what they say, ‘A sigh isn't just a sigh. We
inhale the world and breathe out meaning’.”
“You’re very wise, Debbie. I guess I’m just
feeling a bit overwhelmed today.”
“Well, if there is anything that you need
help with, just let me know. I know that James can be demanding at
times, so don’t feel like to have to suffer through on your
own.”
I smile at Debbie. Her offer to help makes me
feel a bit less anxious.
“Thanks. I really appreciate that,” I
say.
“Of course, dear.” She turns to leave my
office, but abruptly stops before going through the door. “I almost
forgot to tell you. I called the flower shop, and they refused to
tell me who purchased the flowers. I’m sorry that I couldn’t get it
out of them.”
“No worries. That’s kind of what I expected
to happen. Thanks so much for trying.”
“Sure thing,” Debbie says before jogging out
of my office to answer the phone.
I print out some documents and try to muddle
my way through the project.
I work through the morning without checking
the time, until my stomach starts growling. I look at the small
clock in the bottom right hand corner of my monitor. It’s already
1:38. I better grab some lunch.
When I step into the little office kitchen,
I’m surprised to see James standing in front of the microwave
waiting for his food to heat up.
“Hey, I thought you were going to be out most
of the day,” I say. I take my water glass off of the counter and
rinse it in the sink.
“That was the plan, but my afternoon meeting
was cancelled.”
“Oh, I see,” I say.
I finish washing my glass and start walking
toward the fridge to retrieve my salad, passing James who’s still
waiting for his food to warm. Before I make it there, he stops me
by reaching his arm out and putting it around my waist.
“What are you doing, James?” My body tenses
up, and I try to push him away, but he responds by pulling me in
tightly.
“Calm down. I just wanted to apologize for
yesterday. I didn’t mean to just disregard your worries about this
guy who’s harassing you.”
Wow. Is James actually being sweet?
“Thanks for the apology, James. I appreciate
it.”
I let my body relax and put my arms around
his neck. He strokes my back for a few seconds and then slowly
reaches his hand down to my rear and gives it a light squeeze.
I should have known that this was just an
excuse to feel me up. “What are you doing?” I ask as I start
pulling away from him.
James keeps one arm wrapped around me so that
I can’t move away. “You know you like it,” he whispers in my
ear.
James is right. I do like it. I wish that I
didn’t, but I can’t help myself. I stop squirming and allow him to
explore my backside further.
But just as I begin to enjoy the moment, I
hear Debbie coming down the hall toward the kitchen singing She’ll
be Coming Round the Mountain as she walks. Thank God she decided to
showcase her choir skills this afternoon. Otherwise, she might have
caught us in a really embarrassing situation.
James quickly removes his hand from my rear,
and I dart over to the fridge and retrieve my salad seconds before
Debbie enters. That was a close call.
***
I take a sip of my cheap wine and then check
my watch. Harley is 15 minutes late. She’s the one who wanted to
come to Hatfield’s Pub. I’m sure her choice of restaurants has
nothing to do with the fact that there’s a fire house next door and
that this place is a known fire fighter hangout. The tables are
sticky, the food consists only of fried junk, and the service
typically leaves a thing or two to be desired. But the other
patrons make it worth checking out every now and again, I
suppose.
Harley finally comes through the door. She’s
dolled up as usual. Her hair is perfectly coiffed, her makeup is
flawless, and her red halter dress hugs her body in all the right
places. She sees me at a table in the corner and saunters my way,
pretending not to notice all of the men staring at her.
“Sorry I’m late!” She leans over and hugs me
and then sits down.
“No worries. How’s it going?”
“Good, now that I’m here. I had the worst
meeting with a horrible bridezilla today. The bitch was crazy, but
this place is filled with a bunch of hotties. I can’t be in a bad
mood now.” Harley looks around and admires the scenery.
She turns back to face me. “How are you?” She
asks.
“I’m alright, I guess. I just had a tough day
today.”
“What happened?”
“Things just aren’t going the way I’d hoped
with James. The other day he found out about my stalker and he
didn’t seem to care or to be worried. He apologized for his
reaction today, but the fact that he grabbed my ass at the same
time leads me to believe that the apology wasn’t very sincere.”
“Seriously?” Harley asked.
“Yes, and the worst part is that I let him do
it. I hardly even attempted to stop him.”
“Oooh. I’ve never had sex in an office
before. I bet it was hot,” Harley says with a devilish grin on her
face.
That’s just like her to assume that we got
busy.
“We didn’t have sex. Not that I didn’t want
to. In fact, I wanted to do dirty, dirty things with him right then
and there. Luckily, we were interrupted by the receptionist. I
would have stopped him anyway though. If he thinks I’m going to be
his fuck buddy, he has another think coming.”
Harley gives me a disapproving look. “Did you
tell him that?”
“No. Is that really something I have to say?”
I ask.
“Yes. Yes, you do. Men are simple. You have
to spell everything out for them. It’s time that you ask him what
he wants. If he wants to get back together, then that’s fine. But
tell him that you’re not going to settle for any less. If he
doesn’t want to get back together, then tell him that he has to
stop flirting with you and stop with the jealousy act. But maybe
you should consider having sex with him in the office at least
once.” I give Harley a dirty look. “Kidding! I’m just kidding!”
I sigh. “You’re probably right. I need to
just lay down the law. I also need to ask him about the pregnant
woman that came into the office today.”
“What? A pregnant woman? Your office seems to
have a lot of interesting things going on. Can I come work
there?”
I laugh. “Yes, a pregnant woman in a sequined
top and miniskirt. She had bleached-blonde hair and was wearing
more makeup than a clown. I’ve also never seen so much body glitter
on single person.”
“Sounds like a classy lady,” Harley says.
“So, what happened?”
“James was out at a meeting and it was after
five, so the receptionist was gone. I heard someone come to the
door, and I got up to see who it was. She demanded to see James.
When I told her he wasn’t in, she told me to tell him that he’s not
going to be able to avoid her forever. I had to ask her who should
I tell him came by.” I pause and take a drink of my wine. “And get
this, her name is Candy.” I laugh loudly.
“Wow. Candy? Really? Is she a stripper?”
Harley asks.
“I sure hope not!” Harley and I share a
laugh.
“So do you have any idea what it was all
about?”
“No,” I say. “I’m guessing she’s a former
client who’s pissed that she didn’t get the outcome she wanted,” I
say. “Or maybe James wasn’t able to keep her baby’s daddy out of
prison. Some clients are crazy like that. They don’t understand
that there are no guarantees when it comes to criminal law.”
“You don’t think that could be James’ baby,
do you?” Harley asks.
“I highly doubt it. I just can’t imagine him
knocking up some girl named Candy who wears sequined tops and
miniskirts,” I say. The thought of it makes me laugh though. What
would James’ fancy loft look like with a playpen in the living room
and baby bottles drying on the kitchen counter?
“Did you tell James? What did he say?”
“I just texted him and told him that she came
by and asked for him. He never responded.”
A young blonde waitress carrying two drinks
interrupts our conversation. “Hello, ladies. Those two gentlemen
over there bought you these,” she says before pointing at two hot
guys sitting at the bar. The drinks are in martini glasses and have
three different layers.
“What is this concoction?” I ask with no
intention of actually drinking it.
“It’s called Sex with an Alligator,” she
says.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass,” I say. This
doesn’t seem like a good idea on a weeknight.
“I’ll drink it!” says Harley. She smiles and
raises her glass toward the two guys at the bar who sent them over
before sipping on it.
“It’s a shot,” the server says to Harley.
“You’re supposed to drink it all at once.”
Harley obeys and gulps the drink down.
“Your turn,” Harley says to me.
“No thanks. I don’t drink anything I can’t
identify,” I say.
“It’s layers of Chambord, Midori, and
Jagermeister,” says the server. “I promise that it’s good.
“Stop being a baby and drink it, Jo,” says
Harley. “If you drink it, we can leave and go eat somewhere
else.”
What the hell? I grab the martini glass and
down the entire shot in one pass. “Okay. Let’s go. I think I’m in
the mood for a micro salad from Viva Vegan,” I say just as the two
drink purchasers make their way over to our table. They’re both
attractive guys. One is probably about 6’2” with light brown hair
and friendly hazel eyes. The other is even taller with very dark
hair and dark eyes. His chiseled chin nicely compliments his
perfect smile. Both are in excellent shape. I’m guessing they must
be fire fighters.
“Hey ladies,” one of them says. “Can we sit
down?”
“Of course!” Harley says. She pretends to not
see the dirty look I dart her way.
The guys sit down and introduce themselves.
Hazel-eyed Mark starts chatting up Harley and she flirts with him
hardcore.
Unfortunately, Ted decides to talk to me.
Over the span of what seems like half an hour, I hear his entire
life story. He tells me about his job, his two year old daughter,
his best friend, and his ex-wife. I put a small effort into
pretending to be interested, but I honestly couldn’t care any less.
He finally stops and tries to engage me.
“So, what’s your story?” he asks.
We’re interrupted by the server bringing over
four more Sex with an Alligator shots.
“What’s my story?” I say before downing my
second shot. I unintentionally slam the glass down on the table.
“I’ll tell you my story. Let’s see. Where do I start? Okay, so, my
boyfriend broke up with me, and I now work for him. He acts really
jealous and flirts with me all the time, but doesn’t seem to
actually want to be with me. I also seem to have a stalker who is
really trying to scare me. And I think I might be falling for a guy
who is broke and who, based on his track record, probably won’t be
sticking around town too long. That’s my story,” I say. “Excuse me,
miss.” I flag down the server. “Can you bring me another one of
these alligator drinks? Thanks.”
Ned, or Ted, or Fred or whatever his name
looks at me like I’m crazy. “Well, it sounds like you’ve gone
through a lot lately. I’m sorry,” he says, trying to be
sincere.