#Jerk (7 page)

After another hour spent talking about other projects, we filter out of the room. Clive has not stopped talking, having only just returned from a European vacation.

“We haven’t done lunch in ages. You free today, Pres?”

“Sure Clive. Plus we need to catch up on your vacay.”

He flashes me a wink and starts to ramble on about some Contiki tour until the Jerk interrupts us.

“Can I please speak to you?” His tone is demanding enough that even Clive raises his eyebrows.

Great, just fucking great. I knew there was no way to avoid it. I tell Clive I’ll catch up with him at lunch and wait till everyone leaves the room.

“What?” I finally say.

“
What?
Is this the game we’re playing?” he asks, extremely frustrated, running his hand through his hair again.

Don’t look at his hair. Repeat. Do not look at his hair.

“Ignorance is bliss. What else do you want me to say?”

“You don’t want to do the girl thing, drag what happened out, and talk about emotions and bullshit?”

“Nope. I’d rather not.”

My choice to remain tight-lipped is increasing his anger, and I’m getting off on it.

“I don’t get you. You had no problem talking about your
ex.”
The way he says the word “ex” sounds like he’s swallowing poison.

“Well, I am done
talking
.”

His eyes are focused in on my lips. I sense he is biting his tongue and in a matter of seconds he will explode.

“Why were you talking to Marcus?”

“Your cousin? Because it’s polite when someone introduces himself.” I almost laugh at the question.

“Is something going on between you two?

“It’s none of your business, Jerk. You keep reminding me I have an ex, which makes me single, right? So the last time I checked, I’m not bound to anyone.”

“So that’s it? You don’t want anything more to do with me?”

“That’s it,” I repeat, staring him directly in the eyes.

“You’re fine to sweep this under the rug and forget that it ever happened?”

“Consider it swept, vacuumed, and in the trash taken away. Are we done now?”

“Apparently so.”

Lunch with Clive couldn’t have rolled around fast enough. Haden had gone back to his desk and I was happy to put my head down and forget about our argument. Except, I couldn’t. Why was he so interested in my conversation with Marcus? He acted almost—don’t say it, Presley—
jealous.

Okay, rewind. Haden had never shown interest in me prior to Friday night. He had been working at the company for six months now and apart from the annoying pranks, not once did he show any interest in my personal life including my dating status.

The same goes for me. All I knew was that he was a man-whore who somehow attracted women into his man-whore lair where he screwed them without a name to the face. I never really took the time to notice him, being so caught up in my work and relationship with Jason.

I’m fairly certain I’m overthinking things. He made it clear that we were to forget Friday night happened. Surely he was happy-dancing deep down inside that I wasn’t calling and telling him that I loved him.

And with all that said and done, it’s evident that we both made a huge error in judgment. A mistake never to be repeated, and therefore we move on because it’s all in the past.

Clive takes my mind off things at lunch, reenacting every scenario from his almost Lampoon European Vacation. All he was missing was Clark Griswold and a redhead named Rusty. We are sitting in a nearby café, having just ordered, when Dee walks in. She spots us immediately, and without using her manners and asking politely, takes a seat in the empty chair at our table.

Dee is the kind of woman that keeps the cosmetic industry booming. Her bleached blonde hair against her fake spray-on tan does nothing for her. She reminds me a lot of a Playboy bunny (an extremely flat-chested one). Beneath the layers of makeup she wears is no doubt a pretty woman. If only she didn’t make herself look like a Barbie doll.             

“Your pitch was a winner. I think you’ve got that one in the bag,” Clive tells her with a mouthful of salad.

“Haden raised some good points though,” she mumbles, a little disheartened.

“He has no clue, Dee,” I remind her.

“I think he does. No offense, Clive, but women don’t want to read about men getting hot and heavy. They want alpha billionaires breaking their virginity.”

“Why are you letting him sway you? Yeah, I get that you’re sleeping with him, but honestly Dee, grow some balls.”

Shit, did I say that out loud?

“What? First of all, Presley, I haven’t slept with him. Fooled around, yes. Second of all, I’ve got balls! Or whatever…” she snarls.

“Ooh, catty.” Clive raises his hand and makes a claw.

“I’m sorry, Dee. I shouldn’t have assumed that because I see the both of you tongue-wrestling at every opportunity, you have actually slept together.”

My tone is off. Snarky. Catty, as Clive just put it. Gee, someone would think I was jealous. Again with that word.

“Everything but.” She winks this time.

“Ooh a wink? Do tell!” Clive’s enthusiasm prompts Dee to fess up.

“He’s pierced.”

I choke on the cherry tomato that I’m swallowing that instant. Clive is patting me on the back repeatedly as I try to calm myself down, gulping a whole heap of water.

“You alright there, cowgirl?” Clive asks.

I nod, bright red with embarrassment.

“I know, it’s taboo right? I mean it’s pierced right on the tip. I can’t wait to see what it feels like inside.”

Clive laughs. “Why don’t you just tell him you want to do the horizontal tango?”

“Because Clive, I have and he says soon. Lord knows what he is waiting for. We’ve kinda been fooling around for weeks.”

I’m not a gossiper, but I am desperate to get answers, so I bring it up. “What about Trina?”

“The chick that cried after they had sex? Apparently he was off his face that night. They were flirting for weeks.”

What the hell did this all mean? He flirts with Trina then fucks her when drunk or drugged. He hasn’t sealed the deal with Dee, but he screws me in the alleyway without any thought.

Do not read any more into this.
It means nothing and even if it was something, you don’t think of him that way. It was a just a mistake. A big fat huge mistake that should be listed in the Guinness Book of Records as the worst mistake ever.

My thoughts are like poison, slowing seeping through my veins until I am consumed wholly by thoughts of the evil one. I need to stop this madness now. With Clive and Dee busily discussing genital piercings, I take out my cell and find Marcus’s number. I am straight to the point, asking him to meet up for lunch tomorrow. He responds immediately, naming a place and time.

Whatever Haden’s problem with Marcus and me being friends, he will have to overcome it. A week into being single and already there’s drama. This is not what I had in mind when I broke up with Jason.

Marcus is sweet, friendly, and hopefully drama-free. And to top it off, it feels good to sweep Friday night’s regrets under the rug. Just like I had said—swept, vacuumed, and in the trash the Jerk goes.

T
he next day, Marcus shows up at the office, midday on the dot. Since the last time I saw him (just short of twenty-four hours ago) I had forgotten how
good
-looking he is. Wearing a black-striped business shirt paired with charcoal pants, his tattooed arms are completely covered and one would think he was some corporate mogul.

But I know how deliciously dangerous he is underneath
.

He sits casually on my desk, and we briefly chat while I gather my purse, ready to head out for lunch. In such close proximity, my senses have picked up that he is wearing the same cologne Jason once wore. I’m trying my damn hardest to remember my reasons for wanting more than Jason, scared to admit even to myself that it may have been a huge mistake on my behalf.
Yes, I got that all from a bottle of Hugo Boss.

I stand up, straightening my dress, when the Jerk invades my cubicle. Today he chose not to wear a tie, exposing his smooth, tanned skin.
Stop staring now; behave, Kitty!

“Fancy seeing you here,
cousin.”
Haden, has stretched his arms wide, blocking our exit.

“Well, if you see a gorgeous woman like Presley, you ask her out,” Marcus responds with a cocky grin.

The two of them watch each other intently, but I swear at this moment they are having a full-on conversation in their heads. I’m certain it involves boxing gloves and Brad Pitt standing in the corner of the ring saying
“Welcome to Fight Club.”

Haden stands firmly with his arms crossed. “She just broke up with the love of her life.”

“Uh, wait a minute. Now you’ve got my back?” I laugh in his face, infuriating him even further.

Knowing that I am playing with fire (or Kitty’s selfish need to see the rainbow and get her happily ever after), I grab onto his forearm to move him out of the way. Ignore that it’s hard…
his muscles
…his muscles are hard!
Jesus Presley, jump ship now.
You’ve got two young guys in front of you and Kitty is having a nervous breakdown. Luckily, I am carrying my spare big-girl panties and just like Superman, I magically whisk them on and give it back to the Jerk.

“I believe Dee requires your attention.” Leaning in further, I whisper in his ear,
“Not sure why you’re holding back from her since you had no problem unleashing on me.”

Pulling myself back, I hear his jaw literally drop to the ground. My work here is officially done. The look on his face is priceless and I have never felt so empowered.

Marcus grabs my hand and I allow him to do so, watching Haden divert his eyes from this intimate gesture. Against the partition, Haden’s knuckles are stark white as he restrains himself. I have no idea what his problem is, apart from the obvious male ego and pride bullshit.

I’m not a prize; this isn’t a competition.

We aren’t even dating, and we both agreed it was a ‘sweep it under the rug’ type of fuck.

Raising my head to meet his eyes, I give him my most evil grin. “See ya later.
Jerk.”

Marcus and I sit in the booth near the entrance, lucky to get a seat at a popular diner. The burgers here are delish, and so is Marcus. I have no idea how old he is, and given that it’s rude to ask, I settle for assuming he’s in his twenties. God, when did I become such a cougar?! Guys in their twenties have this wicked aura around them. At least that’s what Vicky tells me. I can see it though. They seem to care a hell of a lot more about their appearance, obsessed with working on their physique. They tend to dress in all designer labels, and even when they are dressed down, they rock a pair of jeans and a tee like a model on a runway.

Then there’s the hair.

Marcus has
beautiful
jet-black hair.

Although it’s short, you can tell it’s silky smooth. If he grew it out, he would look like Cleopatra and I would happily feed him grapes from a golden plate.

While the waiter serves us our meals, my cell vibrates. Expecting a much needed text from Vicky, I’m surprised to see it’s from the Jerk instead, and immediately roll my eyes before even opening the message.

What do you mean unleash on you? Are we talking about this now?

I should have responded with something witty, but Marcus seemed to have focused his attention on me. I throw my cell into my purse and dive into my meal. He has quite an appetite on him, almost polishing off the burger in a second.

“I could do another,” he says with a satisfied smile.

“Why not? You only live once. There’s always the gym…” I trail off.

“So tell me, why are you a gym virgin and why the sudden urge to work out? You look amazing, hot, sexy, just in case no one has ever told you that.” He smirks.

“Nice flirting.” I laugh in return, relaxing us both. “Long, long story. Maybe another time.”

“I’ve got time.”

“Super long.”

“Hmm, okay sixty seconds. Ten questions, I get to ask you anything and that’ll satisfy my curiosity.”

“Huh?”

He looks at his watch. “Time starts now. Who did you last date?”

What was the rule of the game?
He taps on his watch, so I answer quickly.

“Date? I was engaged to a guy named Jason.”

“Why did you guys break it off?”

“It wasn’t right,” I stutter nervously.

He raises his eyebrows, but does not pry any further.

“Where did you grow up?”

“Virginia.”

“Siblings?”

“An older sister, Gemma.”

“Favorite band?”

“Band? Bon Jovi.”

“Nice,” he adds. “Favorite song?”

“In These Arms…Bon Jovi.”

“Favorite movie?”

“
Father of the Bride
.”

He pauses, then follows with a short chuckle. “I love that movie too.”

“Really?” I laugh out loud.

“Favorite food?”

“Nachos.”

“Ultimate holiday destination?”

“Australia,” I answer with a smile.

“Why did Haden take you outside on Friday night?”

The question, a giant curveball, stuns me. Mentally, I try to calculate how many questions he has asked me, but all I think about is some excuse that will satisfy him without having to let the cat out of the bag.

“How many questions is that? I think your time is up.”

“I’m sure you can answer the last one.” His stern tone catches me off guard.

I could tell him the truth; besides, if this goes any further, I can’t hide something like that from him. What are the chances of this going further? He is young, I am older. The best we could achieve is copious amounts of hot sex.

“We had an argument earlier that day. Frankly, your cousin is a jerk.”

He seems fixated on my movement, and I give him nothing to see how uncomfortable I am with this conversation.

“I think I will order that second burger.”

“Don’t I get to ask you the lightning round of questions?”

“The next date you can.” He winks.

“Oh, there’s going to be a next date?” I ask coyly.

“Why wouldn’t there be?” He angles his face closer to mine, and with his lips slightly parted, I follow his lead until our lips brush together. The butterflies have crept their way into my stomach, causing some major excitement, but it’s soon followed by the grim reaper—
guilt.
I don’t know who or what I am feeling guilty about. My second attempt at playing the field since Jason and I broke up only two weeks ago, or the fact that he is the Jerk’s cousin.

Don’t answer that.

“Marcus?” I say softly as we both move away. “I just broke up with my fiancé. I’m slowly adjusting to life being single again.”

“I’m not asking you to marry me, Presley. We can have fun together.”

Fun. That either means hanging out at the amusement park or being tied to the bed with a gag ball and chains. Kitty has her voting cards out already, proudly holding up ‘option two.’

Traitor.

We finish lunch and head back to the office. Marcus insists on taking me back to my desk. I put my purse away and before I know it, he leans in to gently kiss my lips again. In the background, I hear a throat being cleared. It’s Dee, and she is standing with an overly thrilled Clive.

“Listen, I better go. Call me tonight, okay?”

I nod, and when he turns the corner, I think all is sweet until the whispers become louder and the three of us are standing there trying to eavesdrop.

“Just like when we were kids,” I hear the Jerk say.

“You said I had free rein,” Marcus responds, frustrated.

“When did you ever hear me say that?” he bites back.

“Friday night. Though you never explained why you pulled her away from the dance floor? C’mon Haden, you’re fucking the blonde. What do you care?”

Silence falls between us all. Dee looks hurt, but that soon turns to anger. She glares at me like this is all my fault.

“You’re right, I am fucking the blonde. So why should I care about Malone? She’s all yours,
bud.”

It’s my turn to be crestfallen. I’m not angry or upset with Marcus; they have some bro code going on and he clearly has been given the green light.

Yet, I am not a possession.

I don’t belong to Haden, but hearing him admit that he doesn’t care for me, not even one miniscule of a feeling after he had his way, is enough to eat away at me.

I cannot fall for him. I cannot even
want
him in any way.

Praying for a miracle is my only exit, and thankfully, that miracle arrives at 3pm when Mr. Sadler announces that Haden Cooper will be taking on an assignment in London for four months.

Halle-fucking-lujah!