by B. Cranford
“You’re my type,” Jade offered, deflecting uselessly.
“Not since our old friend left this establishment behind. We’re back to just friends, I’m afraid.”
A man seated at the bar a handful of seats away turned in their direction, his interest clearly piqued by their conversation.
Showtime, Jade thought. “You’re breaking up with me? Why?”
Brighton gave her a what the hell look, which Jade replied to with some solid side-eye action, drawing her friend’s attention to their audience. Brighton nodded, and took up her role immediately. “I’m not breaking up with you, I’m just saying, maybe we need a little time.”
“A little time? A little time. Like the little time you took when you got knocked up by that, by that—” Jade cut herself off, unable to finish her sentence for fear that laughter would derail their act.
“That was a mistake. I’ve already apologized, but the fact that you can’t seem to let it go tells me that this is the right decision for us.” Brighton took on the look of a woman at the end of her rope, a look Jade imagined Sebastian, Lowe and Storm were privy to on a regular basis. After all, she’d seen firsthand the mess Bright’s little tribe could make.
“I’m . . . I just.” Jade took in a deep breath, using her peripheral vision to see if the man they were performing for was still watching.
He was. Avidly.
As quietly as possible, Jade muttered to Brighton, “We need to take this outside,” to which Brighton nodded minutely.
“Here you go, one water and one club soda.” Ashton placed the glasses in front of them, and Jade felt a little sorry to be leaving before they’d finished their night. Throwing some bills on the bar, she winked at Ashton, picked up her glass of water and drank it in one long draw.
“You winked at her. You winked at her? And you’re blaming me for seeking out someone else?” Brighton’s smirk was so obvious that she had to turn in mock huffiness and Ashton’s questioning look made Jade feel bad for bringing the new girl into their game. “I’m leaving. I’m done with you.”
Jade watched as her friend stood as gracefully as possible and exited the bar, then turned back to Ashton with a smile. “Sorry about that.”
Ashton didn’t reply, clearly wondering what the hell had happened between the two women who, for the better part of two hours had been sitting peacefully at the end of her bar and coming up with baby names that were borderline unusable.
“Panera is a good name. And it has meaning for you and Seb.”
Leaning in so she could talk without being overhead by the eavesdropper, Jade offered an apology. “I’m sorry. It’s our thing, when men are paying us too much attention for our liking. Also, it’s fun.”
Ashton gave her a knowing smile and nod. “Got it. It was flawless.”
“Right, we’re pretty good at it by now.” Jade tried not to feel to prideful but couldn’t help it. They were good at it, and it was fun, and no one really got hurt.
Well, maybe the fuckboys approaching girls in bars, but that wasn’t her problem.
“I think I heard about you two. I’ll be seeing you again, right?”
“Yeah, we come in every week or so, so you’re kind of stuck with us.” Jade gave Ashton one last lift of the lips. “I’d better head out. My ride is waiting for me.”
“See you later,” Ashton called after her. “Maybe, you know, call me sometime.” Jade looked over her shoulder to see an exaggerated wink being offered and left the bar laughing at the way Ashton had seamlessly fit into her and Brighton’s little display.
Outside, Brighton waited a few feet from the entrance, her body shaking in silent laughter. Jade walked over to her friend and, joining their hands, led the laughing woman to Brighton’s car, parked on the side of the road. “You going to be able to drive over there?”
“Ye-ye-yessss,” Brighton stuttered out, taking a few deep breaths and calming herself before continuing. “Taking you home?”
“No.” Jade felt a blush work its way up her cheeks, though Brighton knew that she and Declan had been together for weeks. “Can you take me to Dec’s?”
Brighton started the car, but didn’t say a word until she was safely on the way. “Anything you want to tell me?”
Jade knew that Brighton was asking for more information about her and Declan, about their first, incomplete date. About the supply closet and the bickering and the undeniable attraction that had led them to this point.
Her, going to his place to spend the night.
Him, calling himself her boyfriend.
“Mr. Young, a Jade Miller to see you?” His assistant smiled at her while she waited, soup in hand, for admittance to Declan’s office.
“Bring her in, Mel.” Declan’s throaty voice came through the loudspeaker, and Mel moved from behind her desk, leading Jade down a short hallway and opening a door at the very end.
Jade stepped into the office and took in the clean, sleek lines, but before she could appreciate the rest of the room, Declan was beside her, snaking a strong arm around her waist and introducing her properly to Mel.
“Mel, this is my girlfriend, Jade Miller. Jay, this is my assistant, Mel.”
Mel offered a polite nod, which Jade returned with an awkward, “Hello.” They’d met in the front office area, after all.
“When she comes in, you can just bring her straight through, okay?” The arm at her waist tightened and she leaned her body into his, enjoying the feeling of being next to him, of being called his girlfriend to someone so important in his life.
His assistant. The woman who controlled his calendar.
“Of course. I’ll see you around, Ms. Miller.” Mel left the office before Jade had the chance to tell her to use her first name and regardless, her words were lost with the warm look on her boyfriend’s face.
“Girlfriend?” she asked with no small amount of happiness in her tone. It sounded good. It felt good.
It could all go wrong at any moment.
No one asked you. Go away.
“Is that okay?” He turned them both while keeping his arm around her waist, making it so they were locked, face-to-face, in an embrace. “Keeping in mind if you say no, we’re going to have words.”
Jade thought about saying no, just for the thrill of having “words” with Declan. But she didn’t want to play games. She was finally ready, she wanted the same thing he did, and she was prepared to put her trust in him.
“It’s better than okay.”
“Um, Jay? Are you okay over there?” Brighton’s voice held a note of concern and Jade turned to her friend to offer reassurance and an explanation.
“Yes, sorry. I was just thinking about him.” She didn’t say who him was, because she didn’t need to. She was sure all that she was feeling was written on her freckled face. Still, she couldn’t help the words falling from her mouth anyway. “My boyfriend.”
The return of Brighton’s snort-squeal-snicker startled Jade, then sent her into a fit of giggles. Brighton pulled the car to a stop in front of Declan’s building and, after shutting off the engine, turned to face her passenger. “I’m so happy for you. Like, really freakin’ happy.”
“I know. I’m happy for me too.”
“That’s important, Jade. Being happy. I want that for you.”
“Thank you,” Jade whispered, feeling a swell of emotion rise in her throat. Tears threatened as she looked lovingly at her best friend in the entire world. How she could have ever doubted Brighton’s loyalty was beyond her, and, in the interest of finally being honest with herself, one of the reasons she was so determined now to fight back against the crippling mental illness that was telling her she wasn’t worthy.
That she was undesirable.
Forgettable.
Easy to leave.
“Will you tell me?” Brighton asked kindly, clearly wanting to know but not wanting to push too far.
But Jade was ready to share. So, she did. Taking her time, she spilled to Brighton about her D
ad, about Chris, about Declan and the date that wasn’t and about being nursed back to health, and nursing him back to health. She told her friend about her three and a half weeks of blissful encounters and dirty hot sex. And when she was done, the tears she’d shed in the re-telling had long since dried, cleared away by a friend who made her feel completely loved.
Then she knocked on the door of the man she’d avoided for so long and now couldn’t stay away from.
Freckles: Remember when we talked about office sex?
Declan: Yes. No. Wait, which time?
Freckles: Girls’ night . . .
Declan: Yes. YES.
Declan: Are you coming here? *praying hands emoji*
Declan: Pun absolutely intended, BTW.
Freckles: Of course it was. King of terrible jokes.
Declan: You love it.
Freckles: . . .
Declan: Don’t try to deny it. So, are you coming here or not?
Freckles: You know I have a job, right?
Declan: I also know that today is a half-day for you.
Freckles: Are you stalking me?
Declan: It’s not stalking if you’re my girlfriend. And besides, Seb called.
Freckles: Specifically to tell you I had a half-day?
Declan: No. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t come up.
Declan: Speaking of things coming up . . .
Freckles: I can actually picture the lecherous look on your face, Jackass.
Declan: You love it.
Freckles: I do.
Declan was still smiling at the last message sent to him by Jade—his girl—when a knock on his office door came. Not expecting anyone—unless Jade was already here and ready to get it on—and Mel out of the office getting lunch, he rose and walked to the door.
Cee-Cee Moore strode into the room, her ice-blonde hair pulled back in a tight, high ponytail that swept back and forth across her shoulder blades as she walked. A skirt so tight it looked moments away from popping at the seams was coupled with a cream colored, silky-looking blouse, and the lack of humor, character or freckles on her face made Declan feel a little sorry for whoever was waiting for this woman at home.
Not that she wasn’t beautiful. Not that she wasn’t smart. Or one hell of a businesswoman.
But because she couldn’t compare to his Freckles. No one could.
“Declan.” Her voice was firm, flinty. She blinked cold blue eyes at him and, instead of going for a handshake, per their usual interaction, leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek.
He fell back a step, and gestured for her to take a seat. Then, in need of some distance, walked around his desk and took his own seat. “Cee-Cee, this is a surprise. What are you doing here?”
“I have the contract for you,” she spoke as she pulled a stack of papers from her briefcase, a sleek-looking bag that could have been brand new or five years old. Like its owner, it was clear and hard-looking.
“You could have emailed it. Couriered it. So, why are you really here?” He wasn’t about to circle the subject. All his previous interactions with this woman were direct, if nothing else.
Her smile was borderline charming and if he were any other man, he might have been compelled by the pretty curve of her lips, or the way it softened her entire look. But he wasn’t any other man, and he wasn’t about to be hit on by a woman when his own woman was, he hoped, on her way to see him.
And to see to him.
“Are you seeing someone, Declan?” Her question was straight to the point, the way she shifted her body in the leather chair in front of his desk precise.
“Yes, actually. Not that that has any bearing on our working relationship.” He didn’t want to have this conversation.
“Pity. I’m not. Relationships are so . . . messy.” Her use of the word messy tickled in the back of his mind, but he ignored it. He wasn’t going to pursue it, question it or give her any reason to think he was interested in it. “I thought perhaps you’d thought the same.”
Before he had a chance to respond, another knock sounded at his door. It was lighter, peppier than Cee-Cee’s had been. It had personality, which was not something he’d ever thought he say about a knock on the door, but hey. He suspected it was Jade on the other side and she planted all kinds of random—and dirty—thoughts in his mind.
“One second,” he called, buying a moment to end this impromptu, unwanted meeting. Not bothering to comment on Cee-Cee’s implied offer, he reached a hand out for the papers that she’d had placed on the edge of his desk. “Cee-Cee, I appreciate you coming down here, though I’m certain we could have handled this on the phone.” She arched a brow, but didn’t speak. “I’ll have this back to you by tomorrow.”
“That’s fine,” she replied, standing and waiting as he rounded the desk. When she made a move that looked like a precursor to another kiss, Declan thrust his hand out, leaving her no option but to take it, shake it and release it.
It was cold. There was none of the warmth, the spark that made every touch he shared with Jade so good he’d been addicted within minutes.
He walked Cee-Cee to the door, opened it and smiled down at Jade, who was wearing a black dress, one that skimmed the curves of her body, with blood red heels on her feet that made his cock spark to life. “Hey, Freckles. Just one more second, okay?”
Jade’s smile was wide as she nodded, but as he felt Cee-Cee step out from behind him, he saw the color drain from Jade’s face. Her eyes dulled. Her shoulders rounded.
And that smile? Faded away.
Confused, he opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, but Jade spoke before he had the chance.
“Chris.”
Jade felt her grip on reality slip as Chris’ face appeared behind Declan.
Her blonde hair. Her clear, sharp, cold blue eyes. Her smile more of a disapproving grimace.
Gone was the woman that Jade had fallen in love with when she was in college. The one whose smiles were freely given and took over her pretty face. The one who told her that she was loved. The one who danced with her at her graduation party.
In her place was the woman who’d told her she wasn’t wanted anymore.
“Jade? What are you . . .” Chris’ question trailed off as she looked to Jade’s hands and over to Declan. “Ah, I see.”
Declan took a step forward, blocking Chris from her view, and Jade breathed deeply of his comforting, familiar scent. “Freckles?”
Behind him, a scoff. “Freckles? You let him call you that?”
Jade felt fire. Flames burst to life around her as she let her anger, her frustration, her demons come out to confront the woman at least partly responsible for their very existence.
But she didn’t speak. She couldn’t. Though her insides were alive with rage, her lips were paralyzed. Instead, she rose on her tiptoes to place a chaste kiss on his jaw, not able to tell him what was happening, not able to escape the voices.
Those fucking voices.
It’s cute how you thought you could escape.
I did escape you.
Then why are you running?
She quickly spun herself toward the entrance, her flight response kicking in even as her fight response burned out within. The fire began to fade. In its place, a chill spread. It was as cold as Chris’ eyes, her hair, her final words.
“You’re too needy, taking up too much time.” Chris’ eyes closed as she sighed deep, like this was just another disappointment, just another thing holding her back. “I don’t need the distraction. The mess of a relationship.”
“Jade!” Declan called after her but still she couldn’t answer. And if she could, what she would say? Clearly, Chris’ leaving her behind had done wonders for her career. If she was in Declan’s office, it could only mean one thing.
She had succeeded in climbing the ladder in an industry that didn’t often—hardly ever—reward women.
At least she didn’t abandon you for no reason. It was a limp justification, a tiny fight back, but not enough to
stop her. She kept walking, trying her hardest to ignore the voices that echoed in her mind. The ones that told her that she wasn’t good enough. That said she wasn’t enough to make people stay. The ones that told her that Declan would now see how successful he could be without her and realize that Chris had been right in leaving.
It’s only just begun, there’s no need to mourn it, her brain offered. As if the fact that they’d had a few weeks together could soothe the pain shooting in and out, up and down, around and around and around her heart.
It wasn’t until she closed the door to her apartment behind her, flicking the lock and deadbolt before sliding down to the floor, that she let the tears come.
They came so hard she didn’t know if they’d ever leave.
And wasn’t that just dandy? People could leave her without a second thought. But the pain, the tears they left in their wake?
Well, she was cursed to live with them forever.
Declan turned to Cee-Cee, his confusion morphing into anger as he remembered something from the very first conversation he’d had with her.
“Call me Declan, Ms. Moore, please.”
“You can call me Cee-Cee.”
“A nickname?”
“Of sorts. There’s another Chris already working here, and I’ve not been called Christina a day in my life.”
Christina. Chris. Cee-Cee.
This was the asshole who’d left Jade to pursue a career.
And his girl had just come face-to-face with her.
“Weren’t we just talking about messy relationships?” Cee-Cee’s tone was the only thing that belied her nerves. Outwardly, she was as icy-cool and calm as she’d been when she first walked into the office. Her voice, however, shook as she spoke and, though he knew he shouldn’t, Declan took pleasure in it.
She should be fucking nervous.
“Don’t.” He lifted his chin, torn between posturing, defending, possessing—claiming Jade as his and telling the woman standing in front of him that her loss was his gain and that, oh, by the way, you’re a Goddamn idiot for letting her go.