The Sound of Serendipity

by Cynthia A. Rodriguez

  “Why is that, Em?” he murmurs before he’s kissing me again. I wait until he pulls back to answer but he’s on my neck, and I figure this is the only time I’ll be able to be completely honest. When he’s not looking at me and when I’m too drugged by his affections.

  “Because I don’t want to be remembered that way.”

  He stops kissing me and I almost wish I stayed silent so he would continue.

  “What way?”

  “Easy to get, I guess,” I answer.

  He smiles.

  “I always forget you’re young,” he says before he kisses me again. “So shy. It’s sweet.”

  “How long until it bothers you?” I ask, my eyes cast downward and my heart full of trepidation.

  “I’m not gonna lie and tell you I’ll wait for you forever, but I get that you need to know me before you trust me with your body.” Those hands grip my waist. “Besides, you have needs too. And I so look forward to taking care of them.”

  He steps back and before I can gather my wits, he’s raising his arm and grabbing a cab.

  “You’re so sure,” I call out. I’m so sure. I don’t want him to know that I’m as certain as he is.

  He shrugs.

  “I know what I want,” he says and climbs into the back of the taxi. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I try not to watch his cab as it drives off. When he leaves, I’m always so filled with regret. Like maybe I should’ve let myself live a little but I know I’m not ready. Despite the pounding of my heart, I’m not ready.

  Chapter 12

  Monday morning is torture. I’m behind schedule and I managed to spill hot chocolate on my blouse. I’m running around my apartment in my bra and slacks when I notice Hollis standing in the hallway laughing at me.

  “Shut up,” I yell. Once I’m cleaned off, I grab a red sweater and call it a day. Hollis is standing at the door holding a travel mug full of fresh hot chocolate, and I kiss him on the cheek.

  “You love me. I can tell,” Hollis says as we rush to the elevator. I rush. He takes his time.

  When we make it to work, I’m bombarded by people who need to speak to me or my father or just want to offer idle chat, and I nearly yell at three people. But then I hear Maddox in my head calling them fucking idiots and I feel better. Just as I’m finding my equilibrium, there he is, headed to the same meeting I am and my heart hammers like the rabid little creature it is.

  Let me out, it says. You won’t regret it. When he looks up at me and smiles, I know I won’t. I can feel my face flush at the fact that I know what it feels like to kiss him and no one knows that. They don’t know that I spent my evening with him, talking about whatever we could come up with.

  When I walk into the conference room, he’s right behind me.

  “Good morning, Emerson,” he says, and I feel his hand on the small of my back. As if he realizes what he’s doing, he moves his hand away and moves to sit farther from me than usual, which bothers me. When I look at him quizzically, he won’t look directly at me.

  My father walks in and pulls me outside, telling everyone to hold on for a moment. When we’re alone he pulls me into a hug. While it’s lovely, I wonder what’s going on.

  “Is…are you all right?” I pat his back and move away to look at his face.

  “I feel like I’m not getting to spend enough time with you, and I know your mother would hate that.”

  I blink back tears.

  “We’re fine, dad. I promise.”

  He nods and looks back at the conference room.

  “How’s everything going here? How’s Maddox?”

  I blanch for a second, wondering how he knows. Then I remember Maddox is his employee therefore this is a legitimate question.

  “Great. He’s working out well. I sat in on one of his sessions and he’s amazing, dad. Impressive.”

  My dad’s brows shoot up and I wonder if it’s overkill until he smiles.

  “Everything you’re saying, I know. But it’s wonderful to hear you say it.” He looks at the conference room again. “Let’s get in there before these kids think you’re getting special treatment or something,” he says with a wink.

  The meeting goes by quickly. By the end, I’ve caught Maddox looking at me nearly a dozen times. But I can guarantee he’s caught me looking at him more.

  I spend the last twenty minutes of the meeting paying attention. If we’re going to be a secret, we have to be a little better at it.

  The meeting ends and my father pulls Maddox aside. I try not to sweat it until he calls me over.

  “Em,” he says, waving his hand. Maddox looks completely at ease beside him.

  “Yes?” I clutch my planner to my chest.

  “I was telling Maddox here about the lovely observations you made. Amazing. Impressive. Those are words that I rarely hear from Emerson,” my father says, and I look away to try to hide my flush.

  “Well, I have some email to attend to,” I say and step away. A few people greet me on the way to my office, and I try not to be curt but I can’t help it. It’s either I’m curt or I’m freaking out at the fact that I can barely keep it together in front of my father and Maddox.

  When I get to my office, I tell Hollis I’m not taking any calls. I’m at my desk for about fifteen minutes when I hear him talking to someone, telling them to go right in.

  Maddox walks in my office, and I watch as he closes the door and locks it.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, my eyes flickering from the beautiful man approaching to the locked door and back again.

  “Breaking company policy,” he tells me before crooking his finger. I stand before I even know what I’m doing. “I love those expressive eyes of yours. If I look closely enough, they tell me everything your mouth won’t.”

  “What are we…?” Maddox walks me back until my butt hits the desk, and then he pushes me until I’m lying back with his hand under my knee, holding it up. He grips the other knee and I grab onto the edge of the wood. He’s pushing his body into mine until I slide a little further down the desk and I gasp at the feel of the hardness between my legs.

  “I love when you blush. Especially when I’m the reason behind it. Let’s see if you blush when I make you come,” he tells me before he unbuttons my pants with ease. I’m a fumbling twenty-something-year-old woman with the sexual experience of a teenager. I’m here with this experienced god of a man who could probably make me come by the gritty timbre of his voice as he whispers dirty things in my ear.

  While my assistant works just outside my door.

  I want to tell him he’s moving too fast. That it was only last night that I declined his invitation up to his apartment, but I can’t bring myself to stop him. It’s as if my body has decided that I can only say yes. I can only accept without words, and there is no more fear when Maddox is looking at me the way he is. Like I hold the secrets to the universe in my body and he’ll work me until he uncovers them all.

  “I know you’re not ready for it all. So let me give and you just…take.” He pulls my pants down slowly and I’m panting. I squeeze my eyes shut. I’m laid out on my desk, my slacks around my thighs and I can feel his eyes burning holes into my skin. Am I ready for this? He traces circles over my stomach as he lifts my shirt a few inches, and by the way my body reacts, shivering, I know I am ready.

  “Stop bracing yourself, Em.”

  I open my eyes and see him looking down at me. He kisses me, taking his time, and I loosen up. The hands that grip my desk relax a bit and I inhale deeply.

  “We don’t have much time.”

  I nod and take another deep breath. His thumbs slide between my skin and my panties to pull them down, and as if he changes his mind, he moves one hand down farther and he’s inside of them, the lace covering the way he slides toward the warmest part of me. There’s something so primal and erotic about the fact that his hand is moving inside of my panties and I can’t see a damn thing.

  And when his fingers touch me, I nearly ju
mp off the desk.

  “Your body is so ready. But are you?” He kisses me again and then I feel his finger curl inside of me, and I bite my lip to keep myself from crying out.

  I nod again. He repeats the motion, pulls his one finger out and pushes two inside. His other hand slides up my leg, and it only takes a few minutes for my body to feel the orgasm roll in.

  “I watched you the entire meeting while you crossed your legs and tried not to stare back at me. And when you blush…you bring me to my knees.” His thumb is pressing against me, and his words against my hushed hiccups of breath make it impossible for me not to come.

  I’m about to yell when he kisses me.

  “Shhh. I’ve got you,” he whispers as the world bottoms out. I’m still panting and there’s a sheen of sweat on my skin. He kisses my neck as I try to gain my senses and catch my breath.

  After a few minutes, he pulls away and stands back to help right me. I try not to watch him as he adjusts himself in his jeans, and I want so badly to be the woman who sinks to her knees and gives it as good as she gets it. But the seconds tick by and I can’t find my nerve. Only the remaining flutters at the bottom of my belly are reminding me of what just took place here.

  “Well?” I ask him. Because I can’t think of anything else after having his hands in my panties, touching me as if he created my body and knows what it needs.

  He grins.

  “That’s something only I have the privilege of knowing. Unless you want to masturbate in front of a mirror. I’d pay good money to see that.”

  I throw my pad of sticky notes at him, but they miss my mark and he’s gone.

  I come, he goes.

  I could get used to dating Maddox.

  Only once he’s gone do I bite my lip at the feel of my blush spreading across my cheeks.

  My phone rings in the middle of an email to the head of the marketing department.

  “Hello?” I answer, distracted.

  “Dinner?” I hear Maddox ask from the other end.

  “I don’t know…” I close my eyes and lean back in my chair. Two very big things entered my life at once. Maddox and the opportunity to leave a legacy. I don’t want to fail either, but I can’t deny the way I feel hearing his voice.

  “Need help?” I look up. He’s standing in my doorway and my senses flare. Something else does as well: panic.

  “Twice in one day for someone who’s never been in here before?” I ask, straining to look around him from my chair.

  He smiles.

  “What can I say? I can’t stay away.” He leans against the door’s frame, and I don’t know that I can ever look at this space again without remembering our sexy sounds; mine mostly.

  His words are endearing and wonderful to hear. But it’ll also spark curiosity.

  “Come on in,” I say as I get up and walk around him to peek out. Hollis isn’t at his desk. I shut my office door. “People will start to talk.”

  “You’re the only one who cares,” he tells me before threading his fingers through my hair and yanking me to him, latching his lips to mine. I don’t feel anything but him. The lyrics I wrote for him start to play in the back of my mind.

  You arrest my senses,

  And I’m left defenseless.

  My hands are holding onto his wrists because I don’t have control over my body anymore.

  “This feels so new,” he says before he lets his hands slide down to my shoulders.

  “Because it is.” I shake my head. “But it kind of isn’t.”

  “I know we can’t have lunch together. But I figured dinner was okay because you’re one of the last people here anyway.” He’s looking around and I follow his eyes. My office has a few feminine touches but other than that, it’s impersonal.

  “Sometimes I won’t be able to do either.” I head back to my desk and sit. “As time goes on, more of my dad’s responsibilities are becoming mine.”

  He sits in one of my chairs, and I love that he doesn’t look like he’s here for business. Usually people aren’t even in here long enough to sit but when they are, they sit with their backs straight and their body language stiff and uncomfortable, but not Maddox. He’s leaning forward, elbows on knees, face in cheek and eyes drilling into mine.

  “But…you’re still producing, right?”

  I try to act like it doesn’t affect me when I tell him that it’s taken a backseat to being in charge, but he’s not buying it.

  “So you’re wasting your talent to chase after another man’s dream.”

  Though he doesn’t voice it as a question, I close my eyes and give my head a little shake. It hurts to hear what he’s saying because I’ve tried to keep from saying that to myself with every email I type or meeting I sit in. With every moment I’m away from the studios.

  “I’m stepping up and taking over. Do I want to produce? Yes. But I can’t not do this, Maddox.” I start fiddling with my pen and avoiding his gaze.

  “Why not? Why can’t someone else do this?” I glance up at him and he’s calm, his fingers laced, his elbows resting on his knees still.

  “He wants me to do it. The person he raised and knows better than anyone else in the world.”

  He raises his brows.

  “I’ve known you a small fraction of that time, and I can tell you’re dying a little inside.” He rests his cheek in his palm again. “I can hear the way you’re screaming inside. It sounds a lot like me when I can’t get rid of the soul-sucking creative monster on my back.”

  I don’t want to have this conversation in my office, sitting at the very desk this man laid me on top of before making me come so hard the ceiling shattered. I don’t want to have this conversation at all.

  “Aren’t we supposed to be experiencing the honeymoon phase or something?”

  He chuckles and I offer a small smile with no real happiness behind it.

  “Just because it’s new, doesn’t mean it always has to sparkle.”

  “Why else invest in something new?” I mumble as I start to shut down my computer, and I don’t expect to hear anything from him but, as usual, Maddox surprises me.

  “Sometimes you just don’t have any say in the matter.”

  My hand is still hovering over my mouse when I look at him. I’m waiting to see some sort of shyness. Surely, he’s looking away, hiding his face from me somehow. Who can say something so revealing without a hint of uncertainty?

  Maddox can. When I look at him, he’s all smiles. No reservations. Mine to invest in. Mine to break. But by the looks of it, I won’t be strong enough to, and though he looks more than strong enough to break me, I pray he doesn’t.

  “Chinese,” I say.

  “Chinese it is.”

  Chapter 13

  By Tuesday, I’m looking forward to the end of the day. There was a fiasco at one of our artist’s music video shoots, and I decided to go there myself to smooth it out. After a chat with the director, I stuck around to make sure everything went smoothly. By the time I got back to the office, my work had piled a mile high. Hollis was running around like his pants were on fire. Of course, I did what I could to save the day, but no one would notice from the way my heels were kicked off under my desk or the way I rubbed at my neck to combat the tension headache I was fighting. I was learning with each day which battles needed me and which didn’t, and I learned today that I should’ve sent someone else to handle the situation but I wanted to be more hands on. So this was the price. No lunch and everyone would likely be gone before I was. I groan.

  Maddox invited me over for dinner tonight at his apartment. I’m so swamped by work, I can’t wrap my head around the thought of being at his place again.

  When we made the plans initially, he wanted to come to my apartment. I reminded him that I live with Hollis and though he quickly offered his place instead, I felt like the conversation staled afterwards. I only hope that he’s feeling better about it.

  “Knock knock,” my dad says before walking in.

  “Hey�
�.” I was just about to call the publicity department. I set down the phone and look at him expectantly.

  “I’m hearing great things.” He sits in one of my chairs and I smile.

  “I’m glad.” I genuinely am. Because the last thing I want to do is embarrass him or ruin all of his hard work. Especially not when it was mom’s money that made this company even exist.

  He leans forward and I glance down at the socks peeking out. Today’s socks are black with Christmas wreaths. I think about my earrings, and I know we have more in common than even we notice.

  “I’m in my fifties, Emmy.” I look at him with a careful expression because I know how old he is and because I’m wondering where this conversation is headed.

  “Yes.” I move my hand from beside the phone to my lap.

  “I’m a little tired. I’ve been doing this for thirty years now. I built this and though I’ve loved every moment of this dream, it’s nice to share it with you,” he says, and his smile makes me want to smile, but I just can’t find it in myself to do it.

  This isn’t sharing, I want to tell him. But I can’t tell him that it bothers me that the more I’m in, the more he’s out. I look at him and I wonder when things changed but then I think back and, in retrospect, my father has always been a little sad. Sure, a little strange and a little unconventional, but he’s been sad, too. So I have to do this, even if it means I don’t get to produce as often or at all.

  “Sure,” I say and because I can’t stand to finish this conversation, I turn to my computer and start typing. It’s rude and I close my eyes a second to will my subconscious to shut up. “I’m happy to help,” I offer in an effort to be nice.

  “I’ll be around if you need me,” he says. I nod and the space between us gets bigger. I don’t see him as often as I did before. He doesn’t ask me how I am, and I’m too tired to sit him down and force him to spend time with me. We just feel a little off-kilter. I only hope we can get back to where we were before.