by Krista Wolf
“Ms. Adamo I’m up at four-fifteen, running five miles before I shower.”
“Every morning?”
“Every morning.”
I swallowed, dryly. “Shit, that’s impressive.”
I didn’t have time to wonder whether my curse was appropriate He answered immediately. “For some people, yes.”
After a small stretch of silence I realized he was still waiting on an answer. I shrugged and gave him one.
“Okay, fine. The Moonstruck. Seven o’clock.” I paused, then added: “This won’t take long though, will it? I really can’t miss my flight.”
I couldn’t believe I was talking like this… to the man who ran the whole company! Only it wasn’t my company anymore. He was just another man.
“I’ll take as long as it needs to,” Garfield said flatly. Then, with another chuckle: “And don’t worry about your trip.”
Don’t worry about my—
“Because if you miss your plane?” the man added. “I’ll fly you out myself.”
Fifty-Eight
LAUREN
The Moonstruck Diner was already overflowing by the time I got there, filled with dozens of New Yorkers hunched over their breakfasts in hard metal chairs. Light streaming in through its big front windows gave the place a cheerful glow, even in the subdued, early morning light.
It was easy to pick Jack Garfield out among the crowd. True to his photos the man was larger than life, towering at least six-foot five, his square-jawed face topped with the thickest, shiniest mop of luxuriously dark hair I’d ever seen.
His smile was straight and perfect, as he raised one arm and waved me over. I was only three feet away from his booth however, when I realized he wasn’t alone.
“Ah, Ms. Adamo!” he boomed, gesturing to the empty bench across from him. “Please, have a seat.”
I was halfway to dropping my ass into the booth when I recognized the woman seated next to him. She looked shorter, and a lot more haggard than the last time I’d seen her. It also looked like Garfield had literally dragged her straight out of bed.
“You didn’t tell me you were bringing Lilith,” I growled. The way I said the last word made her name sound like a curse.
“Yes, well…” he said, sipping on his coffee. He slid a large plastic carafe my way. “I felt it necessary to—”
“And if you’re here to ‘mediate’, or somehow help us ladies hash things out,” I laughed merrily as I reached for the coffee. “Well, we’re in for a very short breakfast.”
I poured my mug as the man across from me smirked. A week ago, I’d be sitting up straight, hands in my lap. Addressing him as Mr. Garfield, and trying not to stutter.
Right now, he was just one last obstacle between me and my flight out of here.
“I’m not here to arbitrate anything between the two of you,” Garfield said. “You’re both grown women, and you’re both too stubborn for that.”
I finally forced myself to look at Lilith. She was staring down into her own lap, looking wholly defeated. All the triumph and haughtiness of a few days ago was utterly and completely gone.
“In fact, it would be fruitless anyway,” Garfield went on. “Mostly because of the other thing the two of you have in common: neither of you work for me anymore.”
I gasped — literally gasped. There was no way I could hide my surprise.
“And now,” said Garfield. “Ms. Boellinger has something important to say to you.” He turned in his seat, to glare at his companion. “Don’t you, Lilith?”
I sat there stunned, holding my breath. Wondering what could possibly be coming next. For a few seconds, Lilith remained absolutely motionless. Then, very slowly, she raised her head.
“I’m very sorry,” she said, looking more at my neck than my face. I realized it was because she couldn’t look me in the eye. “I— I was…”
She stumbled, sniffed, and then stopped for a moment. In the meantime, Garfield sat there patiently. Sipping his coffee as if nothing big were going on.
“What I did was wrong,” Lilith continued. “I shouldn’t have… I mean…”
“She shouldn’t have fired you,” Garfield finished for her. “When she told me what happened, I was absolutely furious. Everything she’d done, everything she’d submitted regarding your termination…” He glanced at her angrily. “Well, it was a bunch of flimsy evidence and made-up allegations of job abandonment.”
My brows crossed. “Job abandonment?” Now I was furious.
“All baseless claims of course,” said Garfield, holding up a placating hand. “Lilith here has underplayed your role in the company for years now. She’s taken credit for your successes. Claimed your victories as her own. And not just you, Ms. Adamo, but others in the firm as well. Only nobody’s come forth, because she’s made everyone afraid of her.”
Lilith’s head sunk even lower. Of course I knew she was guilty of everything he was saying, but to hear it all laid out like this! Actually recognized…
“A lot of this is my fault of course,” Jack Garfield sighed, leaning back against the booth. “I’ve been way too complacent. Overall the board hasn’t been hands-on enough either, to keep up with the people in our corporation who really matter.” He smiled at me. “People like you, Lauren.”
I felt a sudden surge of happiness. An elation at being recognized that I’d somehow gone way too long without.
“Lilith?” Garfield said casually. “One more time, please?”
I saw my ex-boss swallow, like something was caught in her throat. Maybe it was her pride.
“I’m sorry for how I treated you,” she said, this time looking at me. Her eyes held misery, but maybe for the first time ever, no trace of contempt. “I’m not sure why I did it. You were always good.”
“The best, actually,” Garfield jumped in. “Wouldn’t you say?”
Lilith nodded. “Yes.”
“Go on then.”
My ex-boss took a long, deep breath and let it out as a sigh. If her shoulders got any lower, they were going to dislocate from her neck.
“I… I wasn’t fair to you. And I wanted you to know that I’m sorry.”
A silence descended, even in the noisy diner. For a long time, all that existed was the chatter of a hundred voices, and the shrill scraping of silverware against ceramic plates.
“That should be enough Ms. Boellinger,” Garfield said finally. He nodded toward the exit. “Thank you.”
Lilith rose immediately, like a balloon that had just been released. She slid away from the table and walked out the double glass doors without glancing back.
It took another ten seconds of silence before my host and I even looked at each other.
“Alright,” I said at last. “Now that that’s finished… why don’t you tell me what this is really about?”
Fifty-Nine
LAUREN
We ordered breakfast. Omelets and more coffee. We talked shop a little — mostly about current office events — until our orders arrived. Then the man who ran five miles each morning ate ravenously and without apology, slathering his eggs with ketchup and finishing off every last piece of his toast.
“I’m glad to see you eating,” he said between bites. “No one eats breakfast anymore these days. Everyone always skips it, then wonders why they’re dragging ass or thinking slow or—”
“You want me back, don’t you?”
Garfield smiled through a mouthful of hash browns. He took his time chewing before pointing his fork at me. “You’re very impatient, you know.”
“I’m patient when I need to be, just not when my time is being wasted. Besides, patience is overrated.”
“Do you think I’m wasting your time?”
“Probably,” I admitted, pouring a second cup of coffee. “Especially if you think I’m coming back.”
Garfield raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise. He put his fork down for the first time.
“So you don’t like your job?”
“I love my jo
b,” I replied. “And I’m good at it too. No doubt about that. I guess I just realized I don’t have to do it at your office.”
He sat back, folding his arms. Eyeing me up and down as if he’d underestimated me, and was trying to decide if that were a good or a bad thing.
“If you come back you won’t have Lilith there anymore,” he said. “Breathing down your neck. Taking your projects. Obstructing you rather than helping you, all because of her jealousy.”
I shrugged. “Lilith’s an asshole, but she did know her stuff.”
“But you’d have her job. I’d give it to you.”
My heart raced with excitement, vindication. Even temptation. But I shook my head.
“Forget about me. You’re better off bringing her back.”
The man sitting across from me couldn’t hide his surprise anymore. “And why’s that?”
“Because you’ve already scared her straight,” I said. “She should jump through hoops for you now, and smile at everyone for a good, long while.”
Garfield’s brows knitted together. “Are you suggesting I re-hire this person? Even when you hate her so much?”
“I don’t hate anyone,” I said, over another bite of eggs. “Lilith is Lilith. As long as she’s willing to change, why not give her another chance?”
“That’s very forgiving of you,” said Garfield approvingly. “And magnanimous. Still…”
He trailed off, and I shrugged. “Look, I’m not coming back. As you already may have guessed, I’m going solo. Doing my own thing.”
“Taking some of our clients with you,” he added seamlessly.
“Maybe.” I dabbed at the corner of my mouth with my napkin. “We’ll see.”
“You know your non-compete clause—”
“—is made invalid in the event of involuntary termination,” I finished. “But you already knew that.”
Garfield nodded. “I did.”
“You were just testing me.”
He shrugged. “Look, Ms. Adamo, I don’t see what the problem is here. You like your job. I like you…” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the doorway. “The little hiccup we had this week is now gone. There’s really nothing stopping you from—”
“Give me Esteé Lauder.”
Jack Garfield froze completely. The only thing that still moved were his eyes.
“Give me Esteé Lauder and I leave all the rest. I don’t pursue anyone. I’ll even give it to you in writing.”
He let out a long, slow hiss, like he was being deflated. As he sat back again, his expression was contemplative.
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both really,” he replied. “The account’s too big to lose. And it’s too big for you, at least not right now. Not starting off, all on your own. Hell, even you have to admit that.”
He was right of course. I even knew he was right, but that wasn’t the point.
“They’ll come to me,” I said matter-of-factly. “Maybe not right now, maybe not next month, but they will come.”
Garfield’s eyes shifted. His pretty mouth, which was normally relaxed, went a little bit tighter.
“Tell you what,” I said. “Give me the accounts on this list…” I pulled a piece of paper from my pocket and unfolded it on the table before him. “—and I’ll be out of your hair. Same deal. I won’t pursue anyone else.”
Garfield studied me for a moment before reaching for the list. When he did, his mouth curled into a wry smirk.
“You sucked me in,” he said, admiringly. “You never wanted Esteé Lauder to begin with. You already knew you couldn’t handle it.”
“Shoot for the moon, land in the stars,” I said.
He shook his head and examined the list. There were twelve names, all painstakingly selected by me. None of them were too big, but none were tiny either. I could see by the way he went through it, line by line, that he was familiar with each one.
“I’ll give you half of these. Maybe.”
“Eight,” I countered. “My choice.”
He looked down at the list again. The grin had turned into a resigned frown.
“Seven,” he said. “Still your choice, all except Dunlap.”
When he finished, he pushed the paper back across the table. “Final offer,” he said.
I counted to three slowly, silently, in my head. Then I extended my hand.
“Done.”
Sixty
LAUREN
It was the longest day in history. I’d gone from bad New York traffic to almost missing my flight, to delays on the tarmac, and delays on the taxiway as well. The flight was rough, the service lousy, and the landing nailed so hard half the overhead compartments popped open at once.
Retrieving my luggage took three times longer than normal, too. So by the time I’d endured the cab lines and scored a taxi out of McCarran? I was ready for the biggest glass of wine ever poured.
The drive through Vegas brought back fond memories, and over time I started to relax. Somewhere at the west end of town the cab rolled to a stop. I paid, got out, and approached the guys’ apartment for the first time ever.
Butterflies erupted almost immediately. They’d insisted on picking me up from the airport, but I’d been just as insistent I didn’t want to bother them. Right now the apartment looked dark, even empty. I raised my fist. Went to knock at the door… just as it opened all on its own.
“Hey beautiful,” Corey smiled, standing there in an apron. He looked totally delicious, and smelled even better. “Welcome home.”
He swept me inside, but not before kissing me until I was dizzy. He was holding a wooden spoon, already half-red with tomato sauce. The whole place was filled with the wonderful scent of meat and garlic and—
“Pasta should be done in a little while.”
The living room was warm, the lights dim. Soft music played in the background, something poppy and fun from the 1980’s, but still subdued.
“You might also want this.”
I turned at a second voice and there was Brody, slipping the stem of a very large wine glass into my hand. I squealed with joy and stood on my toes to kiss him, feeling his big arms wrap themselves around me and crush me to his chest in welcome.
I took my first sip with a two-thousand mile sigh, as Brody guided my ass onto a comfortable couch. His hands went to my shoulders. He began massaging them as I kicked my shoes off, my eyes fluttering closed with the pure pleasure of being touched, being pampered…
“We could have dinner first,” he said from behind me, leaving the sentence suggestive and open-ended.
“Or…?” I asked, pretty much knowing the answer.
His hands left my shoulders for a moment, then returned. When they did, they seemed even softer. Somehow more slender…
“Or you could come with me,” a brand new voice said. “And we could… catch up.”
“MASON!”
I whirled and threw myself over the back of the couch, straight into my third boyfriend’s arms. I hadn’t seen him in months! Hadn’t touched him, or held him, or kissed him…
That part was remedied straightaway, as Mason and I locked faces for the next few minutes. I was fully wrapped around his body; arms, legs, and everything. He held me there, his hands exploring the underside of my ass. Kissing me over and over as I whimpered with joy, until finally I was dropped to my two shaky feet.
My movie star boyfriend slipped his hand into mine. With a smile so devastatingly handsome it practically made me wet, he pulled me gently in the direction of one of the bedrooms.
“Go on,” Brody laughed. “Take your time. Catch up with each other.” He cleared his throat and chuckled. “I’ll go help the Maestro in the kitchen.”
One of doors was open now, and I could see inside the candlelit room. A virgin-white comforter lay stretched out across a king-sized bed, its surface pockmarked with little dark, velvety specks. I knew right away what they were.
“Rose petals?�
�� I purred, melting into him. “Wow. You guys went all out.”
Mason pulled me into the room without bothering to kick the door closed. If they others wanted to watch, they would certainly watch.
“Sorry, it’s pretty standard I know,” he laughed. “Contrary to what the romcoms would have you believe, there aren’t all that many moves in the Guy’s Playbook.”
I began slowly unbuttoning his shirt. Halfway through I stopped to run my hand inside, to feel the warmth and strength of his incredible chest.
“Don’t be sorry,” I told him. “This is always a good one.”
I kissed him softly, tenderly, our bodies stiffening and responding excitedly to each other. My tongue probed his perfect mouth, finding his with an arousing sigh.
“Besides, no one’s ever done this for me before,” I admitted. “I’ve barely gotten roses, much less rose petals.”
Mason blinked in surprise. “Really?”
With hands that roamed, I unbuckled his belt. Then, with a devious smile, I dropped to my knees and pulled his zipper down with my teeth.
“Really,” I said, nuzzling his crotch.
Already there was a knot in his boxer-briefs. A wonderfully, beautifully familiar knot…
“Well then the guys you’ve dated have all been bat-shit crazy,” he murmured, his voice going tight with lust.
“Almost exclusively,” I chuckled, pulling his boxers down and closing my mouth over him.
Sixty-One
LAUREN
Dinner was delicious — linguine with meat-sauce, and warm, freshly-baked bread. I was absolutely ravenous, and devoured everything in sight. This was mostly because I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but it didn’t hurt that I’d spent forty-five minutes in the bedroom with Mason, working up an appetite.
The sex was amazing, and loving too. We went at it hard and fast, to get the kinks and cobwebs out, before slowing down into something more romantic and sensual. In the end we were slow-kissing for what seemed like forever, breathing each other’s every breath, rocking our bodies back and forth with Mason’s throbbing manhood buried way up inside me.