by Ami LeCoeur
Chapter Four
“Rhonda, can you come in here, please?”
My secretary hurried in from her desk. She was a walking, talking power plant, that girl. She practically hummed with energy. Even I wasn’t that intensely energetic.
“What’s up, boss?”
I’d been sitting at my desk, poring over the layouts and proofs from the Chandler’s Candies ad we’d done for Valentine’s Day. Our standard procedure was to schedule separate follow-up interviews with the photographer and the client, to make sure we’d hit all the high points. We also liked to find out whether sales improved after the ad ran. Not that it was a guarantee we’d been the cause, but a little anecdotal evidence went a long way when it came to repeat business.
But this morning, I’d been shuffling papers for the past thirty minutes. I just couldn’t bring myself to do any of what I knew needed to be done. As a matter of fact, looking at the ad again, with the man feeding chocolate to the woman, made my stomach turn. I remembered watching Jimmy as he talked the models into the action. He’d seemed so in tune with them at the time. What I’d thought was charming turned out to just be slimy.
My palms were sweaty thinking about it, and it only made me more uncomfortable. I wiped my hands down the front of my slacks, trying in vain to get rid of that slimy, sweaty feeling.
“Look, I can’t deal with the follow-up for this campaign,” I told Rhonda. “I was hoping you would take the reins for me on this one.”
Rhonda’s eyes grew wide. “Are you serious?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“I… uh… you’ve never let anybody else handle that. Are you feeling all right?”
I chuckled in spite of myself. She was right. I was a notorious control freak. But this was one time I was willing to let go of my controlling tendencies.
“I feel great. I just don’t feel like getting back into this particular project. There was just too much last-minute stress with it. I need to move forward and start thinking about Easter, anyway. It’s a better use of my time.”
Her eyelids lowered into slits as she listened. She didn’t look as though she believed my excuses, but she had a bounciness about her that I interpreted as excitement at being given a little more responsibility.
I knew she was interested in a position that would allow her to do more than just my grunt work. She’d studied design in college, so there was more to her dreams than sitting outside my office door. I was glad I could give her this chance—almost as glad as she seemed to be. This would be a welcome change for her.
She scooped up the files from my desk. “I’ll get right on it!” She bit back a giggle as she bounced out of the room. I knew I’d made the right choice. God knew I wouldn’t enjoy the work nearly as much as she would, and avoiding Jimmy the Jerk made me breathe easier.
I stood up from my chair, stretching. I felt good even in spite of the momentary reminder of how many jerks there were in the world. The weekend had refreshed me—the gym, the Farmers Market, not to mention all the fresh fruit and vegetables I’d been eating lately.
I had even gotten in a little reading. Aside from business books, I liked the occasional sci-fi story. I’d downloaded one to my reader and spent several hours with it. While I’d felt guilty once or twice for neglecting my work, I reminded myself each time that I owed myself a little time off. I needed more balance in my life. Now. Not tomorrow. Or someday.
My changes seemed to be working. I felt good. And the world hadn’t suddenly ended just because I took my nose off the grindstone for a short time.
Even though I knew I’d somehow have to deal with Jimmy the photographer and the Valentines wrap-up, taking a mental break let me feel good about coming back into work. Now that the rush was over, I could enjoy that sense of relief that always came when a campaign successfully completed.
It was time for me to think about Easter. Spring, flowers, bunnies, plenty of pastels. That fit the mood I was trying to cultivate within myself—a more lighthearted approach to everything without the necessity of being wrapped up in a relationship.
But it wasn’t in me to just sit back and relax. One of the things I loved best about my job was that it never stopped being exciting. At least that was how it felt for me. There was always the next project, and the one after that. This season, next season, on and on. Some people might have found that boring, grinding. I loved it. For me, it was always stimulating.
After all, I was a designer, an innovator. Too much of the same thing bored me. Like taking care of the “after” details. I suddenly felt giddy, almost a little light headed as I realized I’d not only eliminated the distasteful task of dealing face to face with a jerk I never wanted to see again—ever—I’d turned it over to someone who was excited to take it on.
Rhonda was great with those kinds of details. I smiled. My inner genius had just figured out a way to take care of something I didn’t want to do, provide a great training and development opportunity for my able assistant, and, at the same time, free up more of my time and energy for what I was good at.
Now, all I had to do was find something in my personal life half as stimulating as I’d always found work to be. That would be a nice balance.
Chapter Five
The next morning, I was back at the gym. I’d been thinking all night about Tony’s comments on finding balance in life. If my goal was to balance my professional life with a personal life, I needed all the help I could get. While I loved it, my work had a certain level of stress all on its own. At the moment, the thought of dating added a huge dollop of uneasy stress, especially if my luck kept running along the lines of my last disastrous experience.
With that in mind, I climbed onto the elliptical that morning and settled into an audiobook about marketing. Not that my business needed the help. In fact, I was doing so well I’d been considering a second office for months. There were too many of us crammed into the office space I’d originally rented when I decided to stop playing small and “go big time.” Funny to think how far I’d come in such a short time.
Still, it was never a bad idea to keep current with new marketing trends. Using my free time to learn as much as I could about business had gotten me to where I was, after all.
I didn’t work out as hard as I had on Saturday—it wasn’t necessary. The pain from the scene at the bar was fading. I’d forgiven myself for not paying enough attention as I should have. It was time to move on from what had happened, to put that one behind me.
As if on cue, Tony walked past. He must have already gotten a decent workout since the shirt he wore stuck to his body in sweaty patches. He practically glistened, and the effect wasn’t exactly unpleasant. In fact, he was mighty good to look at. My eyes were drawn to the way his shirt stretched across his broad chest, and I wondered what it might feel like to run my fingers along those hard abs. I couldn’t resist looking him up and down. My audiobook was virtually forgotten, the voice droning like Charlie Brown’s teacher in my ears.
He noticed me looking and nodded, a smile spreading across his face. There was something sweet and charming about this cute hunky guy looking genuinely happy to see me. Ever since he’d approached me the other day, I’d found myself watching for him. I’d even noticed the barely disguised appreciative looks the other women in the gym cast his way, so it made my heart beat a little faster knowing I was the one he was smiling back at.
As soon as I was off the machine, wiping it down, Tony was by my side. I wondered again how closely he watched me. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, really. Just interesting. A little flattering, too, I had to admit.
“How are you today? Feeling a little calmer?” He smiled down at me. “You didn’t look like you were working out as hard as you were the other day.”
“No. I didn’t have a big problem on my mind today, like I did the last time I was here.” For some reason, an awkward veil of self-consciousness shimmered down my body. It wasn’t like me to be tongue-tied in any situation. This guy, as cute as he
was, was clearly younger than me, which made it even more unusual.
What’s wrong with enjoying a little harmless flirtation? It was Tammy’s voice, that know-it-all tone that was way too often right. Especially about my love life. Along with my own critical voice, hers was one I’d come to know and dread. Nobody’s asking you to commit the rest of your life to the guy, Sarah, it’s just a simple conversation.
I made a conscious effort to shut the voice out and to loosen up. “How’s your week going so far?”
“Ah, ya know. I’ve been working out.” He shrugged.
“Just working out?”
“I mean, when I’m not at my job.”
I tilted my head to the side, leaning against the elliptical. “What is it you do? You know my story, but you didn’t tell me yours.”
“Eh, it’s nothing compared to what you do. But, hey, it keeps me busy, pays the bills, and I like the guys I work with. I’m a bricklayer.”
I knew it had to be manual labor.
“So, you really go all-out to stay in shape. I mean, isn’t bricklaying exercise enough?”
“Oh, no.” He frowned, shaking his head. “Not enough for what I wanna do, anyway.”
He didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t ask for more information. I was already running late for work. Relax, live a little. Rhonda’s there, I told myself. The place won’t fall apart before I show up.
“Listen,” he said, a note of nervousness entering his voice. “I don’t think you get enough fun. So, I was thinking… there’s a hockey game tonight, and I have an extra ticket. Would you wanna come with me?”
I could think of at least a dozen things I’d rather be doing—I wasn’t much of a sports fan—but I liked this guy.
“Sure,” I blurted, “that could be fun.” It was out of my mouth before I could stop myself, but Tony seemed happy enough with my answer. Hey, I reasoned, at least it’s something different for once. It would be too easy for me to spend the night at home, or work on stuff from the office. His enthusiasm rubbed off on me as we made plans to meet later, and by the time I went to the locker room to shower and change for work, I was actually looking forward to our date. Even if it meant watching hockey, of all things.
Chapter Six
“Is it always like this?” I leaned close to Tony, nearly yelling into his ear so he could hear me over the almost unbearable noise in the arena. I wished I’d brought a pair of earplugs with me. It had never occurred to me that a simple game could be so ear-splittingly loud. Then again, it wasn’t the game. It was the so-called fans who seemed more angry than anything else.
“Yeah! Why, don’t you like it?” He laughed, then turned back to the action on the ice. Didn’t I like it? Losing my hearing? No, I didn’t like that part at all.
I tried to focus my attention on the game. It made sense on a fundamental level. One team trying to get the puck into the other team’s net. And there was no denying that a lot of it was exciting—the puck flew across the ice, skaters pursuing with hockey sticks, back and forth. My head swung from side to side as I followed along. It was nonstop.
“Is it always so violent?” I winced when two players collided, slamming one of them into the wall.
“Oh, that? That’s nothing. You should see them fight!” Tony was beaming. I wondered if he might have been hoping for a brawl to break out. I looked around at the screaming, jeering fans and wondered how they were all so into something I was doing my best not to be turned off by. Maybe it was me. Maybe I didn’t get it.
Forget the maybe. It was me, and I didn’t get it at all.
Loosen up, Tammy’s voice told me over the noise in the rink. Enjoy yourself. Find the fun in it.
I did my best, only cringing a little the next time the Plexiglas rattled as a player was thrown against it.
“Why is that player sitting down?”
“That’s the penalty box,” Tony explained. He was patient with me. I had to give him that.
“So, he got penalized for hitting that other guy?”
“Right.” I wondered what constituted a penalty compared to the violence I’d been watching for the last forty minutes and figured it was too much for him to explain. So I just kept my mouth shut. Besides, I wanted him to enjoy himself instead of always having to answer my questions.
As the game progressed, I found myself relaxing. And when our team scored, I cheered along with Tony and the throng. I was starting to understand the appeal—the excitement of cheering the team on with all the other people in the arena. There was a feeling of oneness. I was warming up, glad he’d invited me. And glad I’d given it a chance.
Not long after that, one of our players took a shot on the other net, but they blocked the puck. The man sitting behind me had a fit. He’d been getting progressively louder throughout the game, but I’d managed to tune him out while concentrating on following the fast action. This time there was no ignoring what came out of his mouth.
“Hey, asshole! Try to get the puck in the fucking net!”
I turned to look at him. His face was nearly purple from the strain of trying to shout over thousands of other screaming people. He held what had to be his third or fourth beer, judging from the number of empty plastic cups strewn in front of his feet. I decided to let it go. No need to start a fight. I did pointedly turn myself away from him, though.
He didn’t seem to notice. “Come on, shitbrain! What the fuck? What are they paying you for, asshole?” He flailed his arms, and one of them caught me, pushing me forward. Somehow, I managed to stop myself from sailing into the seat in front of me.
“Ow!” I rubbed my shoulder. The jerk behind me was too busy screaming to notice that he’d hit me pretty hard.
“What happened?” Tony was all over me. “Did you get hurt?”
“No, no. Well, just a little…”
That was all he needed to hear. “Hey, jerkoff! Why don’t you save it for your living room?” He got right in the guy’s face, totally fearless. With a body like Tony’s, there was no contest. He could have flattened that drunk jerk in a heartbeat.
“What’s your problem?”
“You, if you don’t calm down and stop pushing women around.” Tony put a protective arm around my shoulders. “Now apologize.”
“What?” The man laughed derisively.
“I said, apologize. You can do it here, or we can go out to the parking lot, and you can do it there.” There was no denying the threat dripping from his voice. I couldn’t ignore the little shiver that ran through me at his protectiveness.
The jerk got the message.
“Sorry, lady.”
I nodded, wanting the whole thing to be over. Tony and I turned back to the game.
He let his arm rest on my shoulders until it was time to go, and I didn’t move away. I liked the nice, warm feeling of his arm around me. I knew that wherever we went together, he would watch out for me.
I smiled. It made me think of Grandpa and Grandma, and the way they lived and cared for each other. They were from a different time, when men were the protectors. The breadwinners. Women were to be cared for and supported. Grandma might have worked right alongside Grandpa, but he still watched after her. There was a chivalry that never faded, no matter how long they were together. It was sweet, and it set an example I didn’t think any man could ever live up to. But Tony was giving me hope.
Funny how a fierce, protective man looks even more attractive. Tony was already cute and had a killer body, but the strength he showed when he defended me made him that much more appealing. It was rather intoxicating.
Suddenly, I liked hockey a lot more than I had before.
Chapter Seven
“I’m in too good a mood to go home. Come out and have a drink with me.”
As always, I had at least a dozen excuses at my disposal. This was a weeknight, and I had a lot of work to do in the morning. I had an early meeting and needed to get to bed early. I had to be up for the gym. I was sure he would appreciate that one.
&nbs
p; When I saw the excitement on his face, though, I couldn’t refuse. It would have been like kicking a puppy, one who’d bravely defended me against aggressors. When I nodded with a smile, he lit up even more. How could I resist? How could anyone resist being wanted like that?
When we got to the bar, the first thing I noticed was a wall of TVs. A sports bar. It was like Hockey Game, Part II, with lots of rowdy fans yelling instructions to the players and slapping each other on the back when their teams scored.
Still, Tony’s enthusiasm and animation were hard to resist. He was flying high. I wondered if the macho display he put on at the game had anything to do with the color in his cheeks and the sparkle in his eyes. He hadn’t been drinking, but he seemed buzzy.
We sat down with our beers, and he talked my ear off. I didn’t mind. I liked the excuse to find out more about him, since I knew next to nothing aside from his focus on building a killer body and what he did for a living.
When the conversation lulled, he turned the focus on me. “Did you always wanna do what you do?”
“Something like it. I mean, when I look back, I know that everything led to this. I loved art, but I also had a head for business. I used to help my grandparents at their farm.” It was a strain to make sure my voice could be heard, so I decided I’d rather he do the talking. “What about you? What did you want to do?”
“Not just what I did want—what I still want,” he said with a wink. I raised my eyebrows to encourage him to keep talking. “I wanna be a pro football player.”
My eyebrows stayed raised. Well, that made sense, he was obsessed with his body and his performance at the gym. He had already bragged earlier in the night about how much he could bench press and the way he was down to a four-and-a-half-minute mile.
“I played back in high school and was good enough to get a scholarship to college. But even though I was first string, I just haven’t gotten into the pros yet.”