by Lauren Wood
I pulled the sheets tighter around my body and glared at him, realizing this was exactly how everything started the night before. “Don’t try that again,” I scolded. “It won’t work this time. You’re just trying to guilt trip me into…into…,” I stammered, not really knowing what he was trying to do.
“Having a good time?”
I let out a growl of fuming frustration and stormed into my bathroom. Maybe if I just locked myself in here long enough, he would get the hint and leave. I wasn’t even sure if I was truly mad at him, or just lashing out at him because I was mad at myself.
But after I had taken a quick shower and freshened up and slipped into my Saturday attire, I opened the door and smelled something strange. My apartment never smelled like this. Had he caught something on fire? But no, that wasn’t quite right. I came around the corner into my kitchen to find him cooking eggs and toast.
“I thought you didn’t know how to do stuff like this,” I jeered.
“I’m not completely helpless. I know how to scramble some eggs and butter toast.”
“Are you sure those eggs were even good?” I asked with a raised brow. “I don’t cook very often.”
“Well then, I’m glad you weren’t the one to teach me how to go grocery shopping a few weeks ago.”
I smirked to myself, thinking how far I had fallen since then. That previous Saturday I was so determined to put him in his place and not in the way I did last night. My mind drifted to the way he tasted, and even after my shower I swore I could still smell his manly scent on my body.
He was so turned on by the way I took control, and it was like a snowball effect that just turned me on even more – like fuel to the fire. Under any other circumstances, I’d be ready and willing for round two. We had a phenomenal sexual chemistry. Too bad that didn’t translate to our conversations, but, actually, that was a good thing. It made it easier to keep from falling down the rabbit hole of this terrible idea.
I plopped down onto one of my bar stools as he delivered me a plate with the toast cut up and arranged into a smile and the eggs in the place of two eyes.
“Are you kidding me?” I cut my eyes over to him, trying not to laugh.
“Turn that frown upside down, hottie. No reason to be glum after a night like that. Especially not with the master of hangover cures around.”
He spun around to the blender sitting on my counter and flipped the switch. The terrible whirring noise shot straight through my temples, and the green concoction being sloshed up inside didn’t look the least bit appealing. At least I knew the selection of fruit in my apartment was fresh. He delivered a green smoothie into my hands along with some water to wash it down and two aspirin.
I had to admit that by the end of the impromptu breakfast, I was feeling a lot better. It was remarkable really considering the amount of alcohol I drank the night before. Maybe Eric really was the master of hangover cures…among other things. But it didn’t change the inevitable speech I had to give. Once the dishes were cleaned up, I turned to him and tried to explain it as gently as possible.
“If I’m being honest, last night really was fun. I’m sorry I was being so…cold at first. You have obviously proven that you’re not quite as big of an asshole as I thought.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he answered slowly, playfully pulling me towards him.
“But!” I added, doing my best not to cave into his flirtatious luring. “It doesn’t change the fact that you’re my client, and this case is huge to my career, to your family, and to the firm. And for you and your fresh start in life. I don’t want anything to jeopardize it all, so…”
He ran his hand across the small of my back and closed the gap between us, teasing my neck with his lips and tongue. It was almost enough to make me lose track of what I was saying.
“So, this can…,” I struggled to maintain a coherent thought as his teeth nibbled along my collar bone, “never…,” then down to my cleavage, “happen again…”
But by the time I got the words out he was carrying me over to the couch and kissing his way down in between my legs. Against my better judgment, I closed my eyes and threw back my head. Maybe this could just be considered a part of the hangover cure.
15
Eric
With the investigation underway and most of our business with Halstead Corporation halted, my brothers and I all found ourselves in a new situation. Jesse and I didn’t have to tip-toe in guilt around Dominic and Jason for not doing as much work as them, because there wasn’t much to do. And those two found themselves with more spare time than they had ever had in their entire adult lives.
One of their ladies suggested that we make the most of it and spend more quality time together doing something other than discussing business. They suggested a family gathering of sorts, the wife and girlfriend included, but I had something better in mind. I would have loved to bring Liz around them, but of course I couldn’t because she was our lawyer. No one could know about what was happening between us. Since I couldn’t bring her around, and they’d never shut up about it if I didn’t show up with some random woman on my arm as expected, I proposed a guys only night.
Coming to the conclusion puzzled me some. Liz said nothing else could happen between us because of the conflict of interest and all that bullshit. Of course, that was before I went down on her for well over an hour. And man did I ever enjoy tasting her on my lips for the rest of the day. But she kicked me out right after and repeated her insistence – that had to be the end of it.
I effectively was not in a relationship with her and had no promise of one ever developing in the near future. With any other woman a few years ago, or even a few months ago, it would have been a dream come true for me. So, why didn’t it sit right? Why would I shy away from taking some random bleach blonde with fake tits to a family get together? I had done it plenty of times before.
Then there was the planning of the night for me and my brothers. If it was going to be guys only, we could go to a strip club. Dominic and Jason would take a little convincing, but it wouldn’t be impossible. And yet…I didn’t want to do that either. I found myself thinking the same thing they would be if I brought it up. It was a fear in my head that sounded something like, “Oh, the Mrs. wouldn’t like that.”
But that was absurd. Liz wasn’t my girlfriend. We weren’t even dating. She definitely wasn’t a Mrs. of mine or to anyone. So, why did I feel this pathetic need to walk around on eggshells? It’s like I felt committed to her whether I wanted to or not.
It all led my brothers and I to an evening of playing pool and smoking cigars in a private VIP lounge of a very classy club. That was safe. The only women there were cocktail waitresses, and they didn’t come unless you called them. It also wasn’t the kind of place where they made the servers dress up in skimpy outfits and flirt with us for tips.
We lounged around in big brown leather chairs as we rotated through our turns shooting pool, puffing away on big Cuban cigars. Jason was advising Dominic on how to navigate the next steps of his relationship with Vanna, now that things like a marriage proposal were being mentioned.
“Take it from me. Don’t do what I did the first time. Anna wanted a huge wedding with all the works. It took over a year to plan and trust me…she was so stressed out and obsessed with the damn thing that there wasn’t much happening in the bedroom that whole time.” Jason’s eyes darkened with the memory of it all, but finally a smile came. “Tara didn’t want to mess around with any of that. She was ready to get that part of it over with so we could get on with the rest of our lives.”
“You know Vanna will want the whole shebang. I’m just going to give her one of my credit cards and let her go to town,” Dominic leaned back with a puff of smoke. “I’ll never get off as easy as you did with Tara, so I’m not going to fight it.”
My mind drifted back to weddings I had witnessed around the world. They were so cherished and elaborate – full of tradition, meaning, and culture in a way that American weddings p
aled in comparison to. I didn’t foresee marriage in my future, but if anyone ever convinced me to walk down the aisle, I wanted it to mean something.
“Why don’t you just Vanna into eloping if you dread the whole wedding thing so much?” I suggested, not realizing what I was getting myself into.
“Says the guy who has never had a serious adult relationship and never wants to get married,” Dominic scoffed.
“Actually, I hear Eric found somebody special,” Jesse chimed in, making me regret ever talking to him about it.
Their heads swiveled around with stunned expressions, but they quickly burst into laughter. They couldn’t picture it. Hell, I was still having a hard time picturing it even as it was happening to me.
“Who?” Jason asked suspiciously, as if I would make it up.
“None of your damn business,” I huffed.
I stormed off to the bar chart to grab another drink. Not only was I depriving myself of casual sex and strip clubs for this girl, without even being asked, now I was getting shit from my brothers about it. It was shaping up to be all the downers of a relationship without any of the benefits.
But as I swirled the glass of scotch around in my hand, I knew what I was behaving for. As much as Liz swore nothing could ever happen between us, I still had the sneaking suspicion she didn’t really mean it. After all, she had said a lot of things would never happen between us that actually had ended up happening.
Regardless of what she said, if I had any chance in hell at convincing her to make a go at things with me, I didn’t want to risk messing it up. If that meant no strippers and no more models and even getting shit from my brothers – I’d take it. She was worth it.
While standing at the bar cart, I pulled out my phone to send her a text. It was the kind of thing I had never sent a woman outside the context of a booty call. I told her I hoped she was having a great day, and I meant it. I knew she wouldn’t respond, but I still wanted her to know I was thinking about her.
16
Liz
It was Friday night and the rest of the office was dim. Everyone else went home hours ago, but I stayed behind to clear my desk. I had nothing better to do anyway, and I hated going into the weekend knowing there was a mountain waiting for me in the office Monday morning.
“You still here?” George’s voice appeared in my doorway.
“Oh, yes,” I laughed, slowing my racing heart. “You startled me.”
“Go home, Liz. That’s an order. You’ve been going at it awfully hard lately, and I don’t want you burning out in the middle of this whole Halstead thing.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. Really, George. I know my limits. I just want to stay on top of everything and make sure it all goes off without a hitch. I’ll just be another hour or so here and then…”
He interrupted me with a low grumbling sigh and invited himself in to take the seat in front of my desk. I could tell a lecture was coming. George always wanted you to miraculously get everything done, but never wanted you to make it look like it took as many hours as it actually did…then he’d have to feel guilty about it.
“Listen, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Is something going on at home?”
I froze. I didn’t know. Was there something going on at home? As far as I knew, my home was as empty and quiet as ever…which was what gave me the freedom to slave away here the way I always did.
“I mean, is there something you need to talk about? In my experience, when someone throws themselves into their jobs like this…it’s because they’re trying to run from something else going on in their lives. But it always catches up to them.”
My cheeks went a little flush as I considered that the only thing I was running from was Eric Halstead, whose photo just so happened to be plastered onto the paperwork in front of me along with the rest of the case notes. The truth was that Eric had been blowing up my phone ever since that regretful night we spent together, and yes – I was running from it in hopes of no one at the firm ever finding out. But I ran straight from his arms into the endless records of his family’s business. So, it was a rather ironic hiding spot.
Suddenly, I realized I had been staring off into space for far too long, which wouldn’t help me in trying to convince George that everything was fine.
“Nothing’s going on,” I assured him. “I just want to get this case wrapped up smoothly and quickly…like you asked.”
“Alright then,” he shook his head in defeat. “But seriously…go home. Take a night off. Go out and do whatever it is young women like yourself do on a Friday night. All of this will be waiting here for you Monday morning.”
Oh, like go out dancing and get splendidly drunk with one of our biggest clients before taking him home and throwing him down in my bed and riding him until the sun came up? I had a feeling he didn’t really want me to do that.
“Thanks, George!” I started gathering up my things just to appease him, but the moment he was out of sight I went straight back to work.
Several hours later I did finally go home. The apartment was dark and empty, just as I’d left it and just as I’d imagined it when George put me on the spot. I popped open a bottle of wine and poured myself a generous glass. After changing into something more comfortable and slumping down onto my couch, I wasn’t sure what to do next.
By the time I flipped through all the streaming channels long enough to find something I actually wanted to watch, I’d be too tired to stay awake and actually watch it. But if I sat too still long enough, this nagging sinking feeling that had been plaguing me lately would return.
I looked at my phone. Eric had texted earlier in the evening, and I’d just received another notification for a missed call. It’d be so easy to call him back. He’d be over here within the hour, and I could get more of what we had the other night. God, he had been so sexy as he tensed up underneath me. And the oral the next morning…I never guessed he would be so generous, and he knew what he was doing too. My legs were weak for hours afterwards.
That wasn’t the part that I was scared of. And honestly, it wasn’t even about him being my client. I was beginning to worry he had been right about something on our make-up date. Was I really so afraid of falling for him? This case wouldn’t last forever, and assuming I could do my job and keep all of the Halstead brothers out of jail by the end of it…I would be out of excuses.
Every time he sent me a sweet text; I’d get a flutter in my heart that went beyond what someone who was just fun in bed warranted. Then there were all the pesky little flashes of him in my brain – the sound of his voice, the way he looked when he smiled, and the look he got in his eyes when we were in one of our infamous stand-offs. But every time something like that popped up, I’d always quickly push it down.
Was the thing I was most afraid of just…falling for him?
It made no sense. He was everything I hated – arrogant, entitled, and he had this ridiculous notion that we should all just throw responsibility to the wind and slow down to enjoy things no matter the cost. We were obviously a terrible match. I valued hard work and integrity, and he had a reputation at Halstead Corporation for being the most unreliable, disinterested executive out of all the brothers. Then there was this frivolous idea he had about starting all over again, even though he had no real plan or ambition to guide him in any of it.
We couldn’t be more different. At least…now. I guess there was a time when I was younger that some of his ideas would have made more sense to me. But I quickly grew up and learned life just didn’t work that way.
I knew all of this logically. I reminded myself of it daily, in fact. These were the reasons we couldn’t stop bickering unless we were busy doing…other things. And yet, underneath all of that – I was still sitting on my couch entertaining the idea of calling him. If I knew all of this to be true, why did I still have this longing for him?
I did my best to shake the whole thing off and poured another big glass of wine. I turned off my phone and decided to re
ad a book instead of watching TV. I was not about to let any of this get to me any more than it already had. Nothing could happen with him, and that was final – I’d have to remember that.
17
Eric
It had been over a week and Liz still refused to answer any of my calls or texts. I was starting to lose hope. But then I thought back to that night on the porch with Jesse. I was ready to give up then too. She’d ended up texting and I’d realized I had more of a chance than I’d thought. It was a sign. Maybe I just needed to make one last attempt at reaching her…
I didn’t want to show up at her place on a surprise visit empty handed. That way if she wasn’t home or she refused to answer the door, I could at least leave something behind for her. But I had overdone the flowers and chocolates seemed too contrived. I went out early that morning and scoured the boutiques for something unique…something that showed her I really did care about her for reasons beyond sex – though that was mind-blowing and a huge perk to the whole Liz package.
I tried to think about what she really needed or wanted…and all I could come up with were ideas about a lawyer’s job. A new desk set? Pens? Hell, the lawyer’s biggest tools were their brains and mouths and Liz already had both of those working overtime.
She definitely had trouble making time for herself and relaxing. Maybe that was the way to approach this. I made my final choices and then headed over to her place. It was still early enough that, hopefully, I could catch her before she made her morning run for coffee.
It took her a long time to come to the door, and when she finally did – it was obvious she had just woken up. Which was surprising. I didn’t think she ever slept in.
“Sorry to wake you,” I smirked, noticing the empty bottle of wine on the coffee table behind her. “Wild night?”