by CY Jones
“Shit, Jodie. You scared me.”
“What’s going on with you?” She asks, giving me a weird look until a wide smile crosses her face. “Oh my God. You met someone, didn’t you? On that dating site, right?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell her, waving her off. Jumping down, I go to the back and grab my fabric book and the samples I put together, hoping she'll let this go, but come on, this is my bestie we’re talking about.
“We’ll talk about this more inside,” she says, taking the fabric book from me and I grab my MacBook.
Jodie requests a table outside, so the hostess leads us out on the patio and I put my stuff on the table and start setting up. As soon as the waitress takes our order, Jodie doesn’t waste any time laying it into me.
“So, spill the beans, who is he?”
“Don’t you want to hear about all the cool stuff I found for your house?” I ask, waving my hand Vanna White style over the samples on the table.
“We’ll get to that, but right now I want to hear about the hot guy you met online,” she replies.
“First off, you know, I haven’t met anyone since we’re still in the messaging phase and you have no clue if he’s hot or not.”
“Sure I do. The big ass goofy smile you had on your face tells me a lot, and by his words, I’m sure you’d know if he’s a looker or not.”
I smile, hating that she’s right. In my head, I’m picturing this beefy hotcake with a great body and a face that makes angels envious. He’s like a romance novel. A man I’ve fallen in love with, but never seen. “He’s something,” I say, after being quiet for so long.
“Well, I’m glad to see you happy. It’s been awhile,” she smiles and I smile back.
We move onto the samples on the table deep in planning mode. I’m happy to see she loved my ideas. She also agreed with the removal of the wall in the front doorway. The one you see as soon as you walk in. The other wall she didn’t want the whole thing removed, but to be framed with the same wood used on the vaulted ceilings. Pulling out my phone, I text Harrison to let him know and see if he can find a close match or if there was any way he could make one. Two seconds later, he texts me a reply saying he’ll work on it and I turn back to the samples.
I’m nervous when I show her my idea of the living wall, but going by her smile and energetic head nods, I didn’t have to be. She was totally onboard and thought it was an awesome idea.
“I can wait until you get back before shopping for plants,” I offer.
“What? No, this is fabulous and you’re totally on the right path. Go with what your heart tells you. I swear, babe, you should open up your own designer school. You’re so talented.”
I’m beaming at her words as pride fills me. Maybe that is why I didn’t see the asshat himself walking up to our table until he was standing right there. When he speaks, I freeze, lost in a barrage of memories triggered from his voice before I snap myself out of it and lift my head meeting Justin’s gorgeous greens.
“Fancy meeting you two here. Jodie, it’s great to see you as always, and wow, Paige, you look great.” I look great, sure. He looks smoking, but he’s always been good looking. General aesthetics wasn’t the problem. His dick was and the fact he liked to stick it in others besides his wife.
“Hello, Justin,” I greet him cooly. He gets a whole lot better reception from Jodie because I don’t think she can be mean, even if she wanted to.
“So, what are you two up to?” He asks, eyeing the samples on the table. I don’t know why, but I move to cover them up. I don’t want him seeing any of my work and stealing ideas.
“I bought a house and hired Paige here to work on it,” Jodie answers.
“Oh really?” He asks interested. "Where at?”
“In Newport, up on the hill,” she replies.
“It wouldn’t be the Johnson’s old home, would it?” He inquires.
“Yes, Brian won over the old owner and she sold it to us,” Jodie answers, beaming.
“I heard that house sold. That’s one hell of real estate and left many brokers weeping over the loss, myself included. You wouldn’t imagine the buzz once everyone learned it sold without being listed. Are you sure you can handle such a large job alone? If you need help, I’m more than happy to give you a hand,” Justin says, turning to me and I bristle.
Jodie goes to answer for me, but I stop her with a look. “I can handle the job just fine, and I’m not alone,” I practically spit out. Of course, he did not have any faith in me. He’s always underestimated my talent.
“Of course you do, I didn’t mean anything nefarious about it,” he backtracks, twiddling his thumbs. He’s dropped his cocky facade and I’m taken aback by the look that passes in his eyes. Is that regret I’m seeing? No, it can’t be. “I just, well, my number is the same and I’m here if you need me. If you’ll excuse me, I have someone waiting at my table.” Confused, I watch him walk away and back inside, taking a seat across from a blonde woman with a severe bun and a no nonsense look on her face. She doesn’t seem like Justin’s type, but it’s not like I know anything about him anymore.
“Did you see that?” I ask Jodie, still watching him through the glass pane. Maybe that look of regret was just my imagination. Me making more out of it than was there.
“I told you that boy would regret letting you get away,” she replies nonchalantly.
No, we’re both wrong. He’s just sorry over missing a business opportunity, besides he’s here on a date. My food was starting to cool and I dig in just to keep from talking. Jodie doesn’t pry, instead she pulls my MacBook closer and looks through the 3D mock ups I have on her home. Once she chooses the layout proposal she likes best, I email it off to Harrison so he’ll have a better idea of what to knock out and what to leave, also so he can make up a schedule. Once he sends me that I can start, I'll be ordering supplies and have them delivered on time. Some of my design ideas I’ve implemented will have to be imported, so that’s at least a four week longer wait.
Once we finish eating, I gather my supplies and hug her goodbye. Justin is just getting into his Beemer when he sees us, his date nowhere in sight. As I drive away, I swear his eyes are on me the whole time. Safely in my condo, I search online through listings of office space. It was about time I get into the groove again. Meeting potential clients at a restaurant every time is not going to work. I also need to think of a new business name. Maybe Turning a New Paige or Paige Designs. Both are catchy. Three spaces pique my interest and I call the realtor and set up a time to see them. Then I check my emails and see Harrison has replied back with the schedule. I spend the rest of my afternoon doing orders until late in the evening when I needed to stop to get ready for Jodie’s get together.
Falling
Paige
I arrive at the happy couples rental home a tad bit late. I had trouble figuring out what I wanted to wear. In the end, I went with the classic little black dress. I thought the gathering was going to be small, but I was surprised to see the amount of cars parked in Jodie’s neighborhood. As soon as I walk through the door, Jodie laces her arm with mine and leads me out to the backyard.
The yard was beautiful like some kind of Midsummer Night's Dream dressed in fairy lights. Jodie loves gardening and I take note of the exotic flowers she has planted. Because this is a rental, I know they can’t dig them up and take them to the new home, but maybe if I can replicate what she has here, her hard work won’t be wasted.
“Hey Paige,” Brian greets, walking up to us and pulling me into a big hug. His tan arms engulf me and his fresh cotton scent assaults my nose. Brian’s a hugger as well as Jodie, so I’m used to it. They are both the types that will carry around a sign advertising free hugs. “Jodie tells me your ideas for the house are out of this world.”
Blushing, I say, “I think she’s biased.” I’m sure my whole face is turning a shade of bright red.
“I am not. Your work is amazing and soon everyone will know,” she denie
s, making me blush even more. When a waiter walks by with a tray of champagne, I immediately snatch one up and take a deep gulp, hoping the liquid will cool my heated cheeks. Of course, that’s the moment Harrison walks up with a beautiful redhead attached to his side.
“Slow down there, killer, there’s more,” he comments and I narrow my eyes at him.
“Hey, Harrison. Nice to see you, man,” Brian says pulling him into a man hug while Jodie turns to the redhead and introduces herself.
“Oh, I know who you are. You guys are like the it couple,” the redhead gushes. “Sorry I’m being rude. I’m Amy. I own Setting Stage, a house staging company.”
“That’s cool. So how do you know Harrison?” Jodie asks. I’m surprised by the edge in her voice. Usually she’s more happy go lucky.
“He’s one of our major contracts. The man brings in a lot of business and he’s a lot of fun,” she adds, winking and I take that as my cue to go mingle. A lot of big wigs were here and it wouldn’t hurt to make connections. You can’t get anywhere without networking. Laying my arm on Jodie's, I let her know I’m going to work the room and I take off before Harrison notices. Why I even care if he sees me, I don’t know. Maybe it's the shirt incident. I’m still reeling over my actions.
I chat it up with quite a few people gathering business cards. They were quite interested in me once they found out I was the designer working on Jodie and Brian’s home. Note to self, I need to get business cards made once I come up with a company name. After a couple hours, my feet were killing me and I take a seat on a bench in a secluded area, facing Jodie’s pond. Toeing off my shoes, I sit indian style on the bench and tip my head back, looking up at the stars above me. It was a beautiful night and this small area was like a place of heaven.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A deep voice says from in front of me. Moving my head I look Harrison up and down.
I didn’t allow myself to look at him when he came in, but now I take in how good he looks in his suit jacket as it molds around his muscles, the white dress shirt with the first two buttons undone giving me an enticing peek, and his fitted slacks down to his shiny shoes. Why does the asshole have to be so good looking? Lifting my eyes, my gaze meets his and in the shade of the trees, I swear his hazel eyes were glowing like some supernatural being. I don’t know why, but he always makes me feel like he’s the wolf and I’m Little Red Riding Hood. But instead of eating grandma, he wanted to eat me.
Clearing my throat, I answer, “it is lovely out.”
He doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he stands there and I start to fidget. “Um, I wanted to apologize. I was late because I didn’t set my alarm, so I didn’t wake up until Jodie called me. I was coffee deprived and cranky and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Then what I did with the shirt was even more unacceptable. It was totally unprofessional and I wanted you to know I’m not like that. I appreciate the chance you took on me and even though I know it was only because it was a favor to Brian, I still appreciate it.”
He still doesn’t say anything and I grow even more uncomfortable. Sitting upright in the chair, I’m about to excuse myself when he finally says, “I accept your apology." Then he sits down next to me and I don’t know what to do with myself. His scent fills my nose, a crisp expensive cologne mixed with his natural scent and, unlike with Brian, I almost swoon as I clenched my thighs together.
“So, where’s your date?” I ask, making conversation.
“She’s around,” he comments. Okay then. He’s not the chatty type. I can’t help myself from comparing him to Cynical H. Harrison is just too intense. I don’t think I could ever relax around him, where with Cynical H, his words sing to me. He calls me the siren, but he has me in the same thrall.
“What’s that face about?” Harrison asks curious.
“Nothing,” I reply shaking my head. "I’m going to go network some more,” I say, getting up and putting my heels back on. Like a frightened rabbit, I leave him staring after me.
Harrison
I watch her as she runs away. I don’t know why I even followed her here in the first place or why my eyes have been on her all night. When she wandered over into this secluded heaven in the backyard, I had to follow. Within the iridescent glow of the lights, she looked like a fairy sitting here. Her soft pink hair flowing around her and the sinful classic black dress she was wearing hugged her lush curves. One of those curves I remember very well from when she flashed them to me the other day. I’m not sorry she showed me her tits, so she didn’t need to apologize for it, but I am glad she said something about showing up late and her attitude afterwards.
Why am I so drawn to this girl? In the beginning, I thought working with her was going to be a disaster, but so far, she’s wrecking me in a far different way. It’s not her work performance I have a problem with. By her emails, I can clearly see she’s a talented designer. She doesn’t follow the norm but takes bold choices. What she has set for Brian and Jodie’s home is nothing short of phenomenal and I'm excited to see the outcome once she pulls it all together. Surprisingly, I find she’s also very coordinated and organized. She’s already ordered most of the supplies and materials we’ll need, filling in my calendar with dates things are supposed to be delivered and where it’s coming from. Usually I have to chase my designer down to do that. I hate being caught unaware, but I don’t have that problem with her.
It’s her that’ll bring me to my destruction. Her casually mentioning Amy agitated me like no other. I wasn’t actually here with Amy. The woman found out I had an invitation to this shindig and practically begged me to bring her. Since arriving, I haven’t seen her most of the night as she’s been like a shark circling new blood as she networks her business. Paige is nothing like her. I’ve watched as she shyly talked about herself and the work she does. Hell, the girl didn’t even have a business card to give out when Amy has a whole box filled with them in her designer luggage bag she calls a purse. Paige is something more and, I hate to admit, I may have misjudged her, which sends me in my own dilemma. What about the lovely siren that I’ve been messaging? My mystery girl pulls me in with her words where Paige allures me with her sinful body. I wish they can be one and the same, making this so much easier on me, but that’s a wasted wish. Paige is nothing like my siren. Summoned from my thoughts alone, my phone pings with an alert and I pull it out and scroll to her message.
Dear Cynical H,
I need to think of a nickname for you. It’s not fair that I’m the only one with one. Have you ever been surrounded by people, but felt so alone? That is what I’m feeling now. I should be enjoying myself, but my mind is full of so many pesky thoughts. Some I shouldn’t even be thinking of.
You call me a siren, but you are quite the poet. A contrast to someone who is supposed to be cynical. Maybe your handle doesn’t describe you at all. I feel like there is so much more to you that you work hard to hide. In our last message, you did not leave me with any questions. Have we moved on to the freely telling each other about ourselves stage?
Let's see, I love the ocean, the night when it's filled with stars like tonight, the feel of rain as it splashes on my skin, puppies, and thunderstorms. I’ve had my heart broken and, despite how hard I tried not to, with each of your letters, I fall closer in love with a man I’ve never met.
Are you ready to run yet?
Most men would. No one wants to hear that after a couple of days, I know. The heart is a fickle thing and temptation lies around every corner. Truthfully, if this was the last I’d hear from you, I wouldn’t be mad. I’d be thankful. Your beautiful words brought me joy when I needed them most.
Do you like ice cream? I’m a mint chocolate chip fan as well as chocolate chip cookie dough. When I’m feeling greedy, I go down to my favorite ice cream shop on the beach and order a scoop of both on a waffle cone. Then I sit out on the picnic table in front of the shop and watch the ocean waves. It’s calming and centers me. Afterwards, I’ll pick up a volleyball game if I see one being played.
In highschool, I used to play volleyball and was captain of my high school’s soccer team. Did you play sports? If you did, I think I would picture you being on the basketball team. I don’t know why, but that’s the picture I get.
I think I scared you enough now. I hope to hear from you soon.
Your Siren
Her words take me back. She’s falling in love with me. I don’t even know how to process this, but I know I don’t want to dismiss her or run like she’s probably thinking. In fact, I think she was really brave to admit her feelings. Yes it’s soon, but I’m not the type to follow the norms of society, plus we haven’t even met each other yet. What if she takes one look at me and I’m not at all what she pictured? I don’t know what I feel, but what I do know is that her feelings are not totally one-sided.
She was absolutely right about the basketball thing. I was a forward and our team even made it to state. I could just picture her in those short shorts out on the soccer field, kicking the ball around, but the problem is that in my imagination she has Paige’s face, and that’s one avenue I really need to steer away from.
“Are you going to hide out here in the shadows on your phone all night?” Amy’s voice breaks my thoughts and I’m annoyed by her presence.
“I’m surprised you noticed,” I sneer.
“Ah Harrison. Don’t be like that,” she pouts. Bending slightly, her girls make an appearance and she runs a sharp acrylic nail down a path on my chest and I grab her hand in a tight grip.
“I saw you talking to that Paige chick. I honestly don’t know what you see in her. She’s a used up little nobody that got a lucky break when her famous best friend needed her house fixed up. If it weren’t for Jodie, she’d still be flipping houses in low budget areas. You know it’s her ex that really made all the money, right?”
Uncontrollable anger takes over me and I fling her hand away. “You have no clue what you’re talking about,” I growl, leaving her staring after me. God, why is this world so fucking cut throat? Amy Gaines is nothing but a catty woman talking shit about the competition. If she wasn’t so threatened, she wouldn’t even bother to mention Paige in such a negative way. As a house stager, you’d think Amy would be sucking up to Paige instead of being such a jealous cow. If I haven’t worked with her for so long and knew how good at her job she is, I’d have fired her for that comment.