by Penny Wylder
When we get back to the hotel we chat for a while, rehashing the meeting, sharing a couple more stories about our lives. I told him about how my bad pottery class led to my job at Ellison media, and he told me about his first pitch meeting with Chelsea Miller when he tried to hand her a pen and it exploded all over her. She ended up laughing hysterically, which is why he thinks she likes him so much.
But later, Chris decides to go to the gym, while I take a nap. I’m more exhausted from last night’s play time than I’m ever going to admit to him. When I wake up from the nap, I feel so much better, and I can hear Chris taking a shower. I glance at the clock, and I see that it’s been a couple of hours. Perfect. In a little while Chris offered to take me to dinner so we can get to know each other in a more traditional manner. It’s really a date, which tickles me, because I never actually thought that I would have a date with Christopher Flintlock. But now that I do, it fills my chest with a happy warmth.
I close my eyes, content to doze until Chris gets out of the shower, when I hear his phone ring. It’s coming from over on the table where he left it. I listen to see if it seems like he’s wrapping up in the shower, but I can’t tell. For all I know that could be Jason, telling us the fate of the deal. I try to get up but my feet get tangled in the sheets and I stumble. I try to get across the room before the ringing ends, but I’m not successful. When I pick up the phone it says ‘One missed call.’
But a few seconds later the voicemail icon pops up. I click it immediately. If it’s Jason, Chris will want to know right away.
It’s not Jason.
Instead, I hear the familiar voice of Maureen. “Hi Chris, it’s Maureen. We got the message about how unhappy you are with Scarlett. You were right, sending her was a mistake in the first place. She’s not ready for this. We finally have someone well enough to take her place. So, since your trip is almost over, let me know if you need them to take a late flight to New York tonight. But whatever the case, we’ll get Scarlett on the first plane home. Talk to you soon.”
I stare at the phone like it’s an alien that just dropped from the sky. What? What message is she talking about? Has Chris been hiding the fact that he’s really unhappy with my contributions so he could keep the peace and get rid of me? That would make the most sense. We had to be in close quarters because of the room situation, and he didn’t want to turn it ugly by telling me I was bad at my job even if I was. On top of that, he chose to take advantage of me. I’ll be lucky if I still have a job when I get back to Seattle. First I didn’t perform well, and then I performed way too well in the one way colleagues aren’t supposed to. My own phone chimes from my coat, and I know that Maureen has sent me the details of my flight back.
There’s a pain in my chest and I give it a beat to sit there before I shove it away. If this what he wants, fine. I’m bigger than this. I can handle it. I can go back to the central office and pick up whatever pieces he left me. But I don’t want to have to see him before I do it. I didn’t bring many things with me, so it takes only a few minutes to throw everything into my suitcase. I leave my key on the table, and I throw on my coat. The water of the shower is still running as I leave him behind.
11
Chris
I come out of the bathroom to a strange kind of silence. “Scarlett?”
She’s nowhere to be seen in the small suite, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. She could have gone down the hall to the vending machines. I cross to my clothes and something gives me pause. My phone is on the coffee table. Before I went down to the gym I had left it on the table. I glance towards her room, and a sickening sense of foreboding settles in my gut. Her room is empty. Not just that she’s not in it, her things are gone. Her suitcase, everything that she had stashed on the bedside table.
What the fuck?
I pick up the phone. Nothing looks out of the ordinary, but if my phone is the only thing of mine that moved, than it has to be part of the reason she left. I didn’t think she would just leave without saying goodbye. I thought we were having a good time, that we were both looking forward to dinner. I can’t think when I’m still dripping wet. I throw on some jeans and a t-shirt, opening my phone again. I see there’s a phone call from when I was in the shower. Scarlett answered my phone? Well yeah, idiot, she might have if she thought that it was Jason calling about the deal and you weren’t there to answer. But the missed call isn’t from Jason, it’s from the Seattle office.
That sense of dread is growing in my gut, and I flip over to the voicemail tab. There it is, a minute after the call. I press play, and hear Maureen’s cool voice on the other end. Shit. I listen to the message, my horror only growing, realizing what Scarlett must have heard, what she must have though. Shit. “Shit.” It’s so bad that I have to say it out loud.
I’m flipping through my emails, finding the one with Scarlett’s contact information, and I’m relieved that it’s still there and she didn’t delete it. I call the number, hoping desperately that she’ll pick up and I can tell her to just come back. But no, the phone rings until her voice picks up on the other end, asking me to leave a message. I call again. Maybe she’s ignoring me after what she heard in the message. I know that if I were in her position I wouldn’t want to talk to me either.
God, I’m such a dick. I can’t even believe I tried to have her fired for spilling coffee and falling over. What kind of an ass am I to do that, especially with her in the room?
She’s probably on the way to the airport right now, but I have no idea which one. I call Maureen back, my leg bouncing anxiously while I wait for her to pick up. It’s three hours earlier in Seattle—she should still be in the office.
“This is Maureen.”
“Maureen,” I say, “this is Chris Flintlock.”
“Oh,” she says, sounding surprised. “I guess you got my message.”
“I did, and I need you to tell me which airport you booked Scarlett out of.”
She chuckles, “One of my assistants did the booking Chris, but I can have her check if you wa—”
“Yes,” I say, not even letting her finish the word. “Now please, this is time sensitive.”
“Right. Okay.” Maureen sounds flustered, and there’s a part of me that feels a little bad for getting in her face, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Scarlett fly away tonight because of a goddamn misunderstanding. When she comes back on the line she seems calmer. “She’s booked out of LaGuardia. Delta Airlines. Can I ask if something is wrong?”
“Not yet. We’ll see. Thanks Maureen.”
“Chris, about the—”
I hang up. I don’t have time to answer any other questions. I grab my coat and wallet, practically sprinting for the door. If there’s any luck in the world I’ll be able to catch her before she gets on the plane. I’ll make them page the whole damn airport. She’s not leaving this city if I can help it.
I hail the first cab I can see, and he skids to a stop in front of me. I hop in the back. “I need to get to LaGuardia,” I tell the driver, “and there’s a bonus in it if you get me there in less than thirty minutes.”
The driver looks at me like I’m crazy, and maybe I am, but he pulls off, and I lean my head back against the seat. How could I have been so stupid? I should have called Maureen back and told her that I over reacted to the incident with Scarlett. I would have told her that she’s great, that she’s perfect, that she turned out to be exactly what I needed and more. I try Scarlett’s cell again. I try it multiple times, every time it goes to voicemail. That’s not a good sign. The minutes absolutely crawl by, and with each tick of the clock I get more nervous that she’s slipping out of my grasp.
The phone rings, and I glance down, my heart falling when I see it isn’t her number. It’s Jason—the call I should really be hoping to get.
“Chris Flintlock,” I answer, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers and trying to sound professional and not like a desperate teenager.
“Chris,” Jason says. “
Hey, I just wanted to give you a heads up that corporate loved your material. They’ll be giving us the final word in the morning, but I can’t imagine we won’t be signing a contract tomorrow.”
“That’s great, Jason. Thank you for letting me know.”
“What do you say we go out for drinks, get in an early celebration.”
“I really would love to,” I say, imagining how much better it would be if I could take Scarlett to drinks instead of chasing her down, “but something really urgent has come up, and I’m on my way to take care of it now.”
“Love trouble?” he asks, and I stay silent, not knowing what to say. He takes my silence for the admission that it is, and chuckles. “Go get her, brother. I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
“Talk to you soon.”
I hang up the phone. It hits me that I’m in way deeper with Scarlett than I realized. The Pleasure Chest is the biggest client I’ve had the opportunity to sign this year, and I’m this close to doing it. But I can’t even think about that, I don’t even care, because she’s not here with me. What the hell have I gotten myself into? And do I ever really want to get back out?
We pull up to the Delta departures exactly forty minutes later. I give the driver a bonus anyway, because riding with me quietly cursing in the backseat, anxiously tapping my foot and making phone calls couldn’t have been the fare he wanted tonight. As soon as the cash is out of my hand, I’m sprinting into the airport. If I’m lucky, if I’m really lucky, my cab driver was faster than the one that she took, and made up some time. If someone up in the unknowable universe is looking out for me, she isn’t through security yet. Looking at the security line, I might have a chance.
I scan the check-in counters at Delta, and I don’t see her, so I sprint for the security line instead, looking for anyone blonde and her height. The line stretches almost the length of the terminal, disappearing into the maze of metal detectors in a mess of serpentine twists. I jog down the length of the line, and she’s not there. I reach the main funnel into the terminal, and there are so many people. I feel my hopes fall as I scan the crowd, because there’s absolutely no way I’m going to find her in this mess.
And then my entire body goes electric, because I see her. She’s inside security, sorting her things to go through the metal detector. “Scarlett!” I call out to her at the top of my lungs. I throw myself towards her without thought, ducking under the rope of the lines, leaping over a suitcase, and shoving my way through the line. More than one curse is thrown my way I as push through the crowd. “Scarlett Brown!” I yell to make sure she hears me. I break free of the crowd in front of the first checkpoint, and she’s right there. “Scarlett!” I call, and I move to go to her. The security agent is on his feet in a second, blocking my way and telling me that I can’t go any further. I barely hear him because Scarlett has looked up and she’s seen me. Relief floods my system like cool rain, and I can tell that she’s confused. “Scarlett, please!” I say. She grabs her things and comes over to me. The security guard has a look on his face like he doesn’t want to deal with this shit, and the travelers behind me are even worse.
Scarlett steps back over the threshold to my side of security, and then I’m drawing her to me and kissing her. I feel her body jump in surprise and then relax, molding to me like it’s something familiar and comforting. It only lasts a second though, because Scarlett is pulling away, looking around. “Chris, what are you doing here?”
“You can’t leave,” I tell her. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go.”
Her face hardens. “Oh? I heard the message. The company got your request and they’re sending somebody better. So your wish is granted.”
“Scarlett,” I say, putting my hands on her shoulders, “I didn’t request that. I don’t want to send you away, because there is no one better. You are everything I need. Everything I didn’t know I needed.”
Confusion clouds her face as my words sink in. “Really?”
“Really.” I lean in to kiss her again, and this time she’s smiling as my lips meet hers. Cheers go up around us from the people in line, whether or not they’re happy for our reunion or they’re happy because the security obstruction is about to be cleared, I’ll never know. Scarlett blushes when I pull away, laughing. I take the handle of her suitcase and guide her out of the line so the security guards stop glaring at us.
“I still don’t understand,” she tells me. “Maureen said she got the message.”
“She must have meant that idiotic phone call I made that first day about you. I didn’t call her again after that. About that, by the way, I don’t think I’ve ever been more of an ass in my life.”
She smiles. “I forgive you. Though it is quite an experience having someone tell your boss you should be fired.”
“I’m a dick.”
She’s laughing again, and she leans into me. “Yeah, you are a little bit. But thankfully I know a lot of really great ways you can make it up to me.”
“Oh?” My cock twitches in my pants, and I know that whatever she wants me to do, I’ll do. I will grovel by worshipping her body in every way I know how.
She slips her coat on. “I think those things are better left for somewhere a little less public.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” I say. “But there’s one last thing I need to take care of.” I pull out my phone and dial Maureen’s office.
She answers almost immediately. “This is Maureen.”
“It’s Chris,” I say. “To answer your question, no I don’t need anyone to take a late flight here, and Scarlett will be staying with me for the rest of the trip.”
“All right,” she says hesitantly. “I guess I should have asked first before booking her on a flight. But you were quite adamant when I spoke to you a couple of days ago. Can I ask what changed?”
“Everything,” I say, and I hang up the phone.
12
Scarlett
I wake up feeling like I’ve slept for days. Chris and I went straight from the airport to drinks with Jason, and we both drank way more than we should have. Followed by Chris attempting to make up for his mistake and the whole misunderstanding by attempting to make me come on his tongue as many times as possible. I stretch slowly, my muscles feeling their overuse last night, but also remarkably relaxed.
I can here that Chris is still asleep beside me, and I turn slowly so I can see him. He’s just as gorgeous in his sleep as he is when he’s staring at me with those blue eyes. In fact, he’s a different kind of beautiful when he’s sleeping. He’s peaceful, his mouth almost smiling. I have a hard time thinking he’d ever be this relaxed while awake. I glance at the clock, and move closer to him. I run my hand across his chest, tracing the line of his pecs and abs, circling his nipple and running my fingers up to his collarbone. He stirs under my fingers, and with a deep inhale he opens his eyes.
“Good morning,” I say, smiling at his disorientation.
“Morning,” he mumbles. “What time is it?”
“Seven forty-five. Unfortunately not enough time for me to take care of that problem you’ve got going on down there if we both want a shower.”
He chuckles, voice still deep and rough with sleep. “I think I’ll survive my morning wood.”
I lean over to him and give him a kiss on the lips. “You never know. I’ve heard that wood can be fatal.” Choosing to let him linger in the bed, I jump up so I can shower first, and I can feel his eyes on my ass. I swing my hips just a little bit more as I slip into the bathroom, and I hear him laugh from the bed.
Almost an hour later we’re both showered and dressed, I’m nursing coffee just wasting time until we have to leave. Chris is down in the executive business center, printing out the paperwork that we need for today. Jason got an email late last night while we were at drinks. Corporate approved of our proposal, and we’re heading to their offices here in the city one more time to have them sign an engagement letter. The more detailed contract will come later. When Chris pops his
head back into the room to grab his coat, we both head out on what feels like some kind of symbolic final voyage. The streets on the way to their office are half familiar now that I’ve driven them three times in three days, and I can’t look anywhere in the elevator without making myself blush. Sex in an elevator is not anything I ever thought that I would do.
The three are waiting for us. I finally managed to figure out that they were named James and Elsie. Though I suppose that’s a little too late to be of any use to me. I still file that away for later. If I get the chance to actually work on this account, knowing the names of the regional marketing directors could come in handy.
Jason looks like he suffered a worse hangover than we did. He’s still practically wincing at the sunlight, and I’m glad that Chris and I didn’t go that far.
Everyone shakes everyone’s hands, and Chris gives them the letter to sign—a couple of copies. They have to get their boss’s signature at corporate as well, but these signatures on the engagement letter are enough to get the ball rolling back at the Ellison Media offices. Everything else in the contract still has to be negotiated, but that doesn’t have to be done in person. And just like that, we’re done.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” Jason says to us.
“More like pleasure staring business with you,” Chris says, as he shakes his hand again.
Jason laughs. “I suppose that’s true. Though next time, let’s drink a little less.”
“Agreed,” I say.
And that’s that.
Back at the hotel, we have nothing but time to kill. Our flight isn’t until the morning, and our dinner reservation—yes, Chris is actually taking me to dinner—isn’t for hours. I pull some comfortable clothes out of my suitcase, pulling on the sweats under my skirt and then taking my skirt off. I’m sure as hell not going to stay business casual for a day in a hotel. I’ll get dressed up again later.