by Jami Alden
"Yeah, well my mother was always trying to keep up with the Joneses, so to speak," she said as she grabbed her coat from the back seat. They started down the sidewalk. "So I learned early to worry about what I looked like, what I wore, everything about how I was perceived," she continued. "It was like I was suffocating," she said and as the words spilled out of her she wondered why she was revealing this, something she'd revealed only to Julie. "When I got out here it was like this weight was lifted and I could do what I wanted instead of worrying about what everyone—especially my mother—thought."
"She must be really proud of you now," Drew said. "You've been incredibly successful. Can't imagine she or anyone else can have any complaints."
They reached the restaurant, a cozy place that served great Mediterranean food. Warm air from inside hit her as they entered, but even the spicy, delicious scent of the food couldn't keep the scowl off her face as she remembered her last conversation with her mother.
The hostess smiled and greeted Drew by name, and quickly escorted them to a booth in the back corner of the restaurant.
"What's that look for?" Drew asked as he slid into the booth opposite Wendy.
"No reason," she said. The last thing she wanted was to burden Drew with some lame sob story about her difficult relationship with her mother.
"Come on," Drew said. "Don't tell me your folks aren't proud."
Wendy shrugged, and took a sip of the ice water the waiter placed in front of her. "Sure, they're proud. They were excited when I got into law school. But I think in my mom's head it was more of a vehicle to meet a husband than for me to have my own career. As soon as I joined Chapman, Cooper & Winters all I hear about is how I'm working too hard, I'll never get a guy to marry me if I don't slow down. How no man worth anything wants to marry a woman more successful than he is. And I guess she was right. Look what happened with Alan."
Drew sat back against the booth, his broad shoulders spanning nearly half of it. His mouth was pulled flat. "Alan's a tool who's no match for you. I thought we covered that."
Wendy let out a laugh that sounded suspiciously like a sob. "I wish you'd been there to break the news to my mother after he dumped me. Want to know what she said? 'You can't be surprised Wendy. You can't expect him to feel like the priority in your life if you're going to be spending time in that silly office of yours." She lifted her hands up in a surrender pose. "Two hundred thousand dollars worth of law school, thousands of hours spent on cases worth billions of dollars, and in her mind I'm wasting my time in some silly office."
"That's why it's easier just not to care."
"I know," she said slumping back against the booth. "But every time she sends me another clipping from the local paper about another one of my high school friends getting married with a little post it note saying, 'this could have been you', I want to tear my hair out."
Drew smiled a little then.
"I get it, she was happy with her life and wants me to have the same, a nice house in the suburbs and a nice husband who earns enough money to keep me in style."
"You'd be bored out of your mind." Drew interjected.
"I know," Wendy said, "or at least I think I would. I mean, don't get me wrong, I want to get married and have a family and all that stuff, but right now I want to push myself, get as far as I can get, and not feel like I already have to choose one path or the other."
"And no one is saying there's anything wrong with that. Except for your mother, and Alan of course. But not all guys need you to drop everything and focus on them to recognize that you love them."
At that moment the waiter came to take their order. After he left, Wendy said, "I can't imagine you've ever been that needy."
His mouth pulled into a cryptic half smile, and she couldn't tell if the shadows in his eyes were real or if they were a product of the tea light in the middle of their table. "I've moved around a lot in my life. I like change. I find that's easier if I don't form a lot of attachments."
"You and Chris have been friends for years," she pointed out.
"Yeah, we've stayed close, but guy friends aren't the same. Guys can not talk for a year and then call each other up and it's like no time has passed. We're part of each other's lives, but he has his family I have... other stuff." The waiter came back and set his drink, a vodka on the rocks, in front of him. He took a sip and as he set it down, he said, "I've never found anyone I had trouble leaving when the time came. I like it that way."
What he said should reassure her, reaffirming that he also had no expectations from her beyond the here and the now. But for some reason it made her incredibly sad. For him. For her. Not knowing what to say, she took a sip of her wine.
"Well, I'm taking a page from your book, at least for then next several months. I don't have time to get attached to anyone right now. Or let anyone get attached to me."
"You don't always have control over it, something I've found out the hard way," he said with a grim smile that was hidden as he took another sip of his drink.
"Thinking about the trail of broken hearts you've left behind?"
"Something like that."
Their food came then, and Wendy was relieved when Drew changed to safer subjects. Over lamb tagine and an additional round of drinks they traded stories about their time in the trenches. By the time Drew finished telling her about the time he stayed up for a week straight so he could get their first product released on time, Wendy was laughing so hard she had tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Seriously? Dancing hamsters in your cube?"
"That stupid video was going around, and our receptionist had it on an endless loop, showing it to anyone who walked past her desk. I swear, I think I answered the phone a couple times singing that stupid song." He sang a few bars of nonsense and waved his hands in the air as though dancing.
Wendy laughed so hard she gave an unladylike snort, which only made them both laugh harder. She used her napkin to dab at her eyes. She'd always known Drew was smart and driven—and don't forget cocky—but she'd never realized how funny he was before.
Drew's own chuckles faded as the waitress came to remove their plates.
"Would you like to see the dessert menus?" she asked perkily. "The pastry chef has made her homemade honey pistachio baklava."
"As delicious as that sounds," Drew replied, "We were planning to have dessert at home. Right?" They're eyes met across the table, and she saw that his lids had gone heavy, an unmistakable heat in his gaze.
"Right," Wendy said, her tongue darting out to wet her dry lips. Under the table she felt Drew's knee press between her legs. Her body immediately flushed with heat.
"Hey, Drew!" The masculine voice was like a splash of cold water. Stomach sinking somewhere to her knees, Wendy sat up straight in her seat and tried to compose her features before she turned to face him.
Drew's hands clenched into fists on top of the table and a muscle began to throb in his jaw. "Alan," he said nodding in the direction of the couple making their way through the small space.
"And Wendy," Alan said, visibly shocked as he recognized her sitting in the shadowed corner. As she stared at Alan standing there, gaping, his new bride equally dumbstruck at his side, a torrent of emotions rioted through her. Anger. Resentment. Humiliation.
But other than the severe sting of wounded pride, Wendy was surprised at the lack of hurt. The absence of the yearning, the feeling of missing the person she'd supposedly loved. She pulled her expression into a chilly smile. "Alan. Tina. You both look well. Looks like married life is agreeing with you." Alan made a strange, choking noise that seemed affirmative. Unable to resist a little jab, Wendy gave them each a deliberate look up and down. "And I can see Tina must be making you some delicious home cooked meals."
Spots of hot color rose to Alan's cheeks. "Tina is as amazing in the kitchen as she is everywhere else." He turned and bent his head to hers, and Wendy felt her stomach give a little lurch as he gave her an obnoxiously passionate kiss on the lips. "She
treats me like a king."
"And I'm your queen," Tina said with smile threatened to make Wendy's stomach heave.
Alan's gaze went back to Drew. "Since when are you two seeing each other?" There was no mistaking the edge in his voice. Wendy felt her stomach flip. She didn't need Alan going around spreading word that she was sleeping with one of his co-workers. No matter that he had been the one to do the dumping. She knew how the old boys network worked, and it wouldn't take much to make her look like a tramp sleeping her way through the ranks of the young successful business set in San Francisco.
Before Drew could open his mouth, she blurted out, "Oh, this isn't a date or anything. Drew wanted to talk to Martinez about doing some work for one of your Helitek. Since it was late and I was starving, we decided to talk over dinner."
Drew's eyes narrowed at her denial, but he didn't contradict her.
"Well I guess with you starting your new gig in Boston at the end of the month, you're not going to start anything serious," Alan said.
Boston? Wendy struggled to keep her emotions placid, knowing Alan was monitoring any reaction she might have.
"And with the partnership on the line," Alan continued, the sneer evident in his voice if not his face, "I can't imagine you'd be doing anything that doesn't further that goal."
Wendy swallowed back a retort. "Yes, I've been working very hard."
At that moment the waitress arrived with the check. Wendy snatched it up as Drew reached for it. "It's on Chapman Cooper, of course," she said through clenched teeth as she fished through her purse for her wallet.
She slipped her credit card into the check and signaled the waitress. Credit card back in hand, she stood up and made a big show of reaching across the table to shake Drew's hand. "So I'll review my notes and we'll talk more later this week?" Deep lines were carved into either side of Drew's mouth, his eyes narrowed into slits. Please play along, she mentally begged.
"Sounds good," Drew practically spat the words out.
"In that case, I'd better get going. I have to be in Palo Alto by eight. Alan, Tina, uh, enjoy your dinner. " She pulled her coat on, slung her purse of over her shoulder and started toward the door, relieved when Drew didn't come racing after her.
As she opened the door to the restaurant, she could hear Drew and Alan's voices in conversation. Her stomach went tight with anxiety. What if Drew told Alan the truth? He didn't seem the type to indulge in locker room talk, especially in front of Tina. But they worked together, and there was ample opportunity to let the truth slip.
Oh, God, why hadn't she thought any of this through, she thought as she started in the direction of her apartment. Slowly, so Drew could catch up. Slowly, so Drew could catch up and she could return the briefcase he'd left in her car.
Then she would send him home, she vowed. All of her fantasies of taking him back to her apartment and indulging in a couple of hours of hot, sweaty sex flew out the window. It was too risky. It had been all along.
She heard heavy footsteps following her up the sidewalk and she paused to wait for Drew to catch up. He was silent as they walked the few blocks to her apartment, but she could see the tension on his face, feel it radiating off his body in waves.
Wendy scrambled for something to say. "Well that was awkward," she finally managed.
Drew made some sort of noncommittal grunting sound. They reached her building, and she unlocked the car with a click. "Listen, I don't think we should do this—"
"What, worried you'll upset poor little Alan and his new bride?" The venom in Drew's voice was so palpable she actually took a step back.
"No! I—"
But Drew wasn't listening. Backing her against the car, he pinned her in with his big body and got right in her face and bit out, "Because in case you forgot, Alan was the one who dumped you on your ass and tried to make you feel like it was your fault—is still trying to make you feel like it's your fault. The only reason I can think why you'd be worried about protecting his feelings is because somewhere in your head you think you're going to get him back?"
"No!" She shoved at Drew's chest, but it was like trying to move a mountain. "I could give a shit about Alan's feelings. I'm worried about him blabbing all over your office that we're sleeping together."
Drew retreated a little, his forehead creased in confusion. "How does that affect you?"
Was he really that dense? "Are you kidding? You guys do tons of work with Chapman Cooper, I've worked on several cases—"
"You're not working on anything for us now."
"It doesn't matter. At this point, I'm so close to making partner I can taste it, but if anything gets out about me sleeping with a client—even if I'm not directly involved, it could cause eyebrows to raise. And the fact that you work with my ex fiancé—"
"Who left you for another woman and then had the wedding and the honeymoon you planned. If anyone looks bad, it's him."
She felt a little burst of warmth in her chest at Drew's repeated defense. But he still didn't get it. "You don't get it. It doesn't matter. Any shred of gossip can be used against me right now. I can't afford to let anything get out there. Not when I've worked so hard."
He shook his head, his mouth pulled into a rueful smile. "I haven't had a girl embarrassed to admit to sleeping with me since high school."
Remembering what he'd revealed about his past, she felt a stab of remorse. "Of course I'm not embarrassed about sleeping with you! I just think that the more people who know right now the more complicated it gets."
"For you."
"Yes, for me. I can see why you don't care. You're leaving at the end of the month anyway. I'm just another one left in the dust, left behind to pick up the pieces when you're gone."
Drew leaned in, close enough for his chest to press against hers. "I was under the impression there wouldn't be any pieces to leave behind." She could feel his breath, hot on her cheek.
Her heart jumped behind her ribs, thumping so hard she knew he had to feel it. "There won't. My point is that I'll be the one to suffer the fallout if people start whispering about us. Which is why I think it's better for you to leave now before this goes any farther."
"I'm afraid I have to disagree with you," Drew murmured and trailed his lips across her cheek, down to her ear where he sucked the lobe between her teeth. "I think if you want me to maintain my silence, you are going to have to agree to my terms."
Her stomach flipped and she felt an electric shock sizzle right through her. "Are you blackmailing me?"
"Maybe just a little bit," he whispered and caught her hands in his as he bent to take her mouth. "You. Me. For the next three weeks, until I leave."
"I—I have to work."
"Don't worry," she could feel him smiling against her mouth. "I'm not going to keep you locked up and tied to my bed the entire time—but I have to admit that sounds pretty awesome." He kissed her again, slid his tongue between her lips, and even though she knew she should be angry, offended, she knew what her answer would be. "I won't tell a soul as long as when you've finished a long, hard day at work, you come home to a long, hard me."
She couldn't stifle a little laugh as he rolled his hips, making sure she could feel every thick, hot inch of him against her stomach. Her body responded instinctively, nipples peaking against her blouse, sex pulsing between her thighs. Sealing the deal.
He wanted to fuck her and was willing to fight dirty for the privilege. And she was loving it.
Chapter 10
Drew knew her answer the second she looped her arms around his neck and parted her lips to suck his tongue into her mouth. The kiss was instantly out of control, a hungry mating of lips and tongues as his hands roamed hungrily over her body. His hands slid inside her coat, felt the slender curves of her waist and hips. As always, the second he touched her it was like the floodgates had opened, and though he'd done a decent job of acting like a civilized human being instead of the sex-crazed animal he became whenever he got within ten feet of her, now it was all
he could do not to rip her clothes off and take her right there.
And the way she was kissing him back, burrowing her own hands under his coat and tugging his shirttail out of his waistband, she was just about far enough gone to let him.
A horn honked, followed by the sound of a wolf whistle and shouts out a passing car window to get a room.
Somehow Drew managed to tear his mouth away. "I think if we have any chance of keeping this secret we'd better get inside.”
Wendy grabbed his arm to steady herself, and they hurried to the door, the tap tapping sound of her high heels mirroring the heavy pulse of his cock. She fumbled the keys out of her purse and threw back the bolt.
She threw off her coat and hurried up the narrow flight of stairs that led to her apartment. Drew followed, hanging back a little so he could watch that amazing ass and long legs coming out of her slim, black skirt, made longer by sexy black pumps leading him up the stairway. He caught her on the landing and kissed her as they pulled at each other's clothing and fumbled with buttons.
He parted the front of her blouse, giving a little hiss of pleasure as he revealed full breasts spilling over the cups of creamy satin and lace. How many times had he seen her in one of these sexy yet conservative business suits and ached to do exactly this? Peel off the professional exterior to expose the sizzlingly sexy woman underneath.
Need roared with new force, and something else as he remembered all the times his pathetic fantasies had ended with watching her leave with Alan.
Alan, whose opinion she still cared about. Regardless of the explanation she'd offered, it stuck in his craw that she gave a tiny spec of shit what Alan or any other asshole thought.
He took her breast in his hand and squeezed, maybe a little too hard. He was about to fuck the most beautiful woman on the planet. He wanted to scream it from the rooftops.
But she wouldn't let him.
He yanked the cup of her bra aside and sucked her nipple between his lips. "Three weeks," he growled, then sucked hard enough to elicit a sharp cry. "For the next three weeks you're mine."