Maybe Later

by Claudia Burgoa

  “I’m not sure if this dating thing is working for me,” she continues.

  I swallow hard, waiting for her to push me away.

  “Who in his right mind eats guacamole on their hamburger?” She gives me a judgmental glare. “Guacamole is for tacos and chips.”

  “Says the woman who drowned her fries in ketchup and honey mustard,” I manage to say without laughing.

  She cocks an eyebrow and says, “If you invite me for tacos, I might forget the whole incident.”

  “As long as you don’t dump me over guacamole,” I counteract as we arrive at her car.

  She extends her hand, I meet it, but instead of shaking it, I pull her to me. I brush the hair off her face and kiss her cheek. Then, feather a few soft kisses along her jaw before I take her bottom lip in between my teeth and tug it. These lips are made to be kissed only by me. I can’t get enough of her and the whimpers she makes when I devour her mouth.

  “Well, I’ve never closed a deal this way,” she says when we finally break our kiss.

  “That’s good to hear,” I say, opening the driver’s door of her car after she clicks the automatic lock.

  “Where are we going after we drop your car?”

  She grabs her phone, tapping it fast. This woman is a pro on the phone. Once she finishes, she looks at me and says, “There’s the Denver Art Museum. They have a new exhibit. We can always go to the Museum of Natural History. I wouldn’t want to go to the zoo. I love animals, but there might be lots of children running around because it’s Sunday.”

  The pit of my stomach tightens. “You don’t like children?”

  It’s not like I plan on marrying her and having an entire baseball team, but that’s precisely one of the reasons why Vivian and I split. She wasn’t planning on having children and never had the intention of telling me about it.

  “How are we having these children?” she asks without cracking a smile. “Sautéed, oven roasted, or just raw.”

  She presses her lips together and rolls her eyes. “Sorry, talk of children always brings bad jokes into the table. See, my best friend had a baby a few months ago, and I spill snark like this at the mention of kids.”

  “You hate children?” I ask because now she’s smiling.

  “Not at all, I’m just not used to them,” she explains. “Laura thinks I hate her baby, when actually I adore Simone.”

  She glances at me. “That’s her baby.”

  “Why would she think you hate Simone?”

  “I like to give her a hard time since she swears I haven’t gone and met her because I don’t like children. But, she’s my niece. They’re like family.”

  “Then, go and visit them,” I conclude.

  “One day I’m going to fly to Boston to kidnap her. Well not really. I do like babies though. They’re adorable. One day I want to have one. Well maybe two, I’ll have to find a way to keep them alive though.”

  “You sound scared,” I point out.

  She nods a couple of times. “I’ve never been close to a small child,” she confesses.

  “When I see them, I want to hold them, but how do you ask a stranger if you can hold their child without sounding like a kidnapper. I’d have to wait and have my own, and now, I have to shut up because you’re thinking, ‘run, she wants to get married and have children.’” She finally stops and looks around the parking lot.

  This can’t be the same woman who put my brother in his place. She’s flustered, and she won’t look me in the eyes.

  “Wait, so you do want to get married and have children someday—but just not now?”

  She squeezes her eyes shut for a second and takes a few deep breaths.

  “Well, I mean, I don’t know,” she shrugs. “I don’t even know if I’m brave enough to get married.”

  Her hands fly to her head when she shakes it. “Shut up, Emmeline you’re making it worse. Get in the car, drive away and change your phone number,” she mumbles.

  “You aren’t making anything worse,” I assure her.

  “Did I say that out loud?” she grunts.

  She dusts her pants, straightens her shoulders, tilts her head and gives me a slight nod.

  “Let’s forget this conversation happened,” she proposes.

  “What conversation?” I ask trying to muffle the laugh.

  “The one where you already think I’m a crazy woman and then I dig the hole deeper trying to convince you that I’m cool—which I am.”

  She raises her hands and says. “Fine, I’m actually terrified of commitment.”

  We both laugh.

  “I have no idea what I’m doing here,” she confesses.

  “We’re going to the museum,” I propose. “When we’re done, we’ll find a good taco place where you can get guacamole. And then, I’ll take you home, and we’ll forget this exchange ever happened.”

  “I haven’t scared you away yet?”

  Bending, I kiss her close to the edge of her mouth and then whisper, “It takes a lot more than your cute-but-awkward confessions to scare me.”

  “Why don’t you share something embarrassing, so I don’t feel inadequate?” she asks.

  “Nope, I like you flustered,” I confess.

  She gives me a challenging glare. “I’ll find something soon. I’ll get even.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jack

  Monday, May 2nd, 7:39 a.m.

  AWalk90 sent you a playlist.

  JSpear84: Good morning?

  AWalk90: Why the question mark?

  JSpear84: The playlist, it’s different.

  AWalk90: Different how?

  JSpear84: You sound tired, not the regular Monday wake up and appreciate the week.

  AWalk90: Yesterday was unexpected, and I had to rearrange my schedule, and I only had two hours of sleep. I just realized that I didn’t send the right playlist.

  AWalk90 sent you a playlist.

  JSpear84: You’re going to have to resend your playlist to all of your clients?

  AWalk90: No, not everyone gets a playlist.

  JSpear84: Aww, I’m special.

  AWalk90: I wouldn’t take that as a compliment Mr. Spearman. You’re high maintenance. You need lots of support. That includes helping set your mood daily. If this were preschool, I would call you my challenging child.

  JSpear84: There you go. If you’re trying to get a good review from me, try harder. Stop calling me challenging and a child. Seriously, you compare me to a petulant preschooler? What do you have against children?

  AWalk90: Nothing, I hear they have more fun than adults. Who wouldn’t want to go back to preschool? You have scheduled naps and get to finger paint every day.

  JSpear84: Do you have children?

  AWalk90: Fishing for information?

  JSpear84: Trying to determine who I’m dealing with because one second I’m special, and the next I’m called a toddler. If you have children, maybe it bumps me back to the previous category.

  AWalk90: Every client is special.

  JSpear84: I’m wounded. All this time you had me thinking I was unique. You sound like my mother. Everyone is special in their own way. That’s BS. Now I realize I’m just a commoner. How many clients do you have?

  AWalk90: Enough to keep me busy for an entire year, 24 hours a day 7 days a week. Even holidays.

  JSpear84: You don’t work on Sundays.

  AWalk90: I try not to, sometimes I can’t avoid it.

  JSpear84: How about the holidays? Does your husband let you work during the holidays?

  AWalk90: And there you go asking about the husband again.

  JSpear84: Are we not supposed to bring your significant other into the conversation?

  AWalk90: If you’re fishing for information, you’re terrible at it.

  JSpear84: Not everyone can be a ninja inquisitor. Do you do that during dates, holidays, family reunions and even while on Tinder?

  AWalk90: Wouldn’t you want to know?

  JSpear84: Of course, I do, tha
t’s why I’m asking!

  * * *

  She has to give me more information about herself. Amy Walker and Emmeline are opposite poles of oversharing and inquisitor extraordinaire. If I had to choose one, I couldn’t, but I definitely enjoy Emmeline more. Is it because I know her in person? Mostly, because she tastes like spiced sweetness and, I find her endearing and beautiful.

  * * *

  AWalk90: You don’t need any answers.

  JSpear84: How do people in your circle of friends react when you’re an insufferable know-it-all?

  AWalk90: What do you think happens to someone with my ninja skills in the outside world? People think I’m too pushy and they avoid me. You might not have guessed it yet, but I’m not fit for real life. If I want to have a circle of friends, I’d have to get off the internet.

  JSpear84: You’re underestimating yourself. Just be who you are. You turned an ogre into a mere grumpy human.

  AWalk90: I needed this conversation.

  JSpear84: What does that even mean?

  AWalk90: Nothing really, it’s just I needed a reminder that I can do this.

  JSpear84: You can do what?

  AWalk90: Would you like me to make a reservation for Wednesday after your meeting?

  Monday, May 2nd, 2:41 p.m.

  Jack: Would you like to go out on Wednesday?

  Emmeline: On May the 4th be with you? We could do something on Cinco de Mayo.

  Yesterday she set my brother straight, and today she’s speaking my language. This woman is perfect.

  Jack: Where have you been hiding all my life?

  Emmeline: In the bookstore. I was actually trapped in there until you came and rescued me. Save me Obi-Jack-Kenobi, you’re my only hope.

  I shake my head and laugh, I imagine her doing just the same and decide to call her instead.

  “Hi,” she says, chuckling.

  “Have I mentioned how much I love your voice?” I smile at the receiver, trying to imagine her right at this moment. She must be sitting down, looking at her monitor or maybe the mountain view. “What are you wearing?”

  I get up, open the door of my office poking my head out to make sure no one is outside. The coast is clear. I push it closed and lock it.

  “Wow, that’s not what I expected you to ask,” she says with a chuckle. “Let me guess, you imagine I’m wearing a black, tight pencil skirt, a white button-down blouse and a pair of high heels.”

  “Your hair is up,” I continue.

  Lust starts to build, like a bonfire; I’m getting fucking hard.

  “If you were here,” I say, my voice coming out thick. “I’d close the door to my office, make sure the blinds were down and—”

  “Stop right there,” she says. “Jack, I’d enjoy phone sex if I wasn’t so busy. It’s three in the afternoon.”

  I grunt, she’s right. It’s not the time for this. I should at least wait to get home and call her again.

  “Let’s make this quick then. Have dinner with me this Wednesday,” I propose.

  “Where are we going?” she asks. I can hear the soft click of the keyboard on the other end of the line.

  “Maybe dinner, and we can try that painting cellar place you suggested,” I offer.

  “Sounds good,” she says absently and then gasps. “Wait, no. They’re only open on the weekends. The gallery is open all week long, but they don’t do the painting wine experience during the week.”

  “We can go to dinner and plan something else,” I suggest.

  She’s quiet for a few moments and then says, “I have work.”

  “Shall I remind you about the boundaries?” I ask trying to find a way to convince her. She’s barely paying attention to me.

  “Look, if you want to stay home, it’s okay. I’ll bring over ingredients and make you dinner.”

  “That sounds super sweet, but—”

  “I really want to see you,” I cut to the chase.

  She sighs and types a little more. “It has to be until seven thirty or eight. I have barre at six. It’s my first class. I’m not sure how stressed out, tired or cranky I’m going to be.”

  “I’ll take my chances, Em,” I finalize the negotiation. “Be ready at seven thirty, I’ll pick you up.”

  “Okay.”

  “See you soon, beautiful.”

  Emmeline: In case you’re wondering, I’m wearing a lace bustier under the blouse, stockings, and a garter belt.

  Jack: Can we meet at your office in five?

  Emmeline: See you on Wednesday.

  Thankfully, I have a private bathroom in my office. I don’t have to walk around the hallway with my half-hard cock. I can’t wait to get home to take care of myself. This isn’t a habit of mine, speaking on the phone with a woman during work hours and jerking off. But I can’t stop thinking about peeling off her office clothes down to that lacy bustier and stockings and bending her over the desk.

  I undo my belt and pull out my cock, resting my left hand on the wall and stroking my dick from the tip to my balls with the other.

  Closing my eyes, I’m back in my office, Emmeline’s legs are spread and her round and luscious ass is sticking out. Her pussy dripping wet and ready for me.

  “Jack,” she says breathily almost moaning with need. “Don’t make me wait. I need you inside.”

  I hate not being able to taste her, to drink from her pussy, but I need to be inside her tight canal. So, fucking tight. I push myself inside her, slowly, softly the way she likes to be kissed at first. Once I’m all the way in, I begin to move faster, sliding in and out thrusting harder as she begs for more. I reach up to her tit, fondling as she screams my name.

  Fuck, I’m so close to coming. A lustful groan escapes me as the muscles at the base of my length contract and I my seed covers my hand. I wish I was with her, filling her up, kissing her cries and collapsing on top of her as we both come down from the best fucking high we’ve ever experienced.

  Monday, May 2nd, 4:05 p.m.

  JSpear84: I’ll make the reservations.

  AWalk90: Excuse me? You will make the reservations. With an S—as in more than one person would attend? <> and you don’t require my help.

  JSpear84: It’s refreshing to be the one surprising you. Yes, I’m going to make my own reservations for two people.

  AWalk90: I am impressed. May I suggest a restaurant?

  JSpear84: You can send me suggestions, but I think I know where I want to take her.

  AWalk90: Which means you know what she likes. Look at you being an adult and finally dating. I am proud of you Mr. Spearman.

  Jack: I can’t stop thinking of you and what I want to do with you.

  Emmeline: Save it for date number 20.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Jack

  Wednesday, May 4th, 10:55 a.m.

  AWalk90: Just a reminder that you have a meeting today. Your date isn’t on your calendar.

  JSpear84: I have a meeting then I have dinner with my friend, there’s no point in setting the second one if it’s not work related.

  AWalk90: Friend?

  AWalk90: Did you demote her from date to a friend?

  JSpear84: Are you this nosy with all your clients?

  AWalk90: Only the ones who like their privacy. I’m just trying to help you work through your issues.

  JSpear84: My only issue is my virtual assistant. She likes to make my life miserable with all her questions.

  AWalk90: Somehow, I think you enjoy being the center of my attention.

  JSpear84: Does your husband enjoy your questions? Fiancé, live-in boyfriend, or significant other. Aha, your wife maybe?

  AWalk90: What if I have a boyfriend and a girlfriend?

  JSpear84: To each their own. If that’s what works for you guys, I think it’s very respectable. So, you are such a handful that you need two handlers, huh?

  AWalk90: I am a handful, but I only need one person. He has to be enough to handle me because I’m not easy. Thank you for that, I kin
d of needed to hear it. Today I had some doubts, but now with what you’re telling me, it’s a confirmation of what I need to do. Don’t forget your appointment and your date.

  Wednesday, May 4th, 1:46 p.m.

  Emmeline: Hi, I have to cancel today’s date.

  Jack: Why? Is it work? I can move it to 8.

  Emmeline: No, something else came up.

  Jack: Em, please, come with me. I have plans for us. I think you’re going to enjoy tonight. Is it because you don’t know anything awkward about me?

  Jack: What if I confess that I had to jerk off on Monday after we hung up the phone?

  Emmeline: That’s kind of funny, but that’s not it.

  Jack: What’s happening?

  Emmeline: I’m a handful, there’s no point to try something that will fail.

  Jack: Em, please take a chance on us. I’m not sure what happened between Monday and right now, but please give us a chance.

  Emmeline: Do you like my spontaneity? Because it can get worse.

  Jack: I do.

  Emmeline: Tell me something awkward about yourself?

  Jack: Jerking off isn’t enough?

  Emmeline: I threw you a little fantasy, it’s normal.

  Jack: I feel like I’ve known you for a long time and I like it.

  Emmeline: …

  She doesn’t answer my text. My phone rings. It’s an emergency in the prototype department. I leave my desk but bring my phone with me as I try to answer some questions and help the head of the department solve the issues. We need more personnel and a bigger location. We’re growing faster than I‘d anticipated. A twenty-minute consultation becomes a three-hour meeting. When I get to my office, I text Emmeline again.

  * * *

  Wednesday, May 4th, 5:03 p.m.

  Jack: Are we still on for tonight?

  Emmeline: Yes, but there’s a change of plans.

  Jack: What is it?

  Emmeline: We have to have dinner early because there’s a concert I really want to attend.

  Jack: I’ll be at your house at five thirty.

  Emmeline: Seriously?

  Jack: Looking forward to seeing you.

  Emmeline: [blush emoji]

  * * *

  Wednesday, May 4th, 6:17 p.m.