“I know you’re lying,” he disputes in a firm but playful manner. “You can’t read and talk to me at the same time.”
“Working on the new Raven software. Looks like Raven 1.0 will be finished and ready for the first round of testing in August,” I lie again, trying divert our attention.
“Wonderful,” he comments. “I can’t wait to try it. Any more thoughts about the server and security expansion?”
“Not yet. I’m still thinking about it, weighing my options,” I explain.
“Makes sense,” he returns. “So what are you doing?”
Shit. Okay, Emma. Just tell him the truth. It’ll just be worse if you keep trying to change the subject or lying and he keeps catching you.
Taking a deep breathe in and wincing, I reveal, “Taking a bath.”
There is not a single sound coming from Joe’s end of the phone. I swear it takes at least a full sixty seconds before I hear him clear his throat.
With a shaky voice, he says, “Umm . . . really?!”
I’m flattered by his response for some reason and all I can do is mumble, “Mmm hmm.”
He clears his throat, but his voice trembles, “Were you thinking of me?”
My mouth becomes dry and it takes me a second to answer. “No . . .” my voice shakes.
“I don’t believe you,” Joe expresses as his voice cracks.
“I wasn’t . . .” I contend.
“Mmm hmm . . .” he hums into my ear. “Yeah, you were. Deny it all you want to yourself, but I can hear it in your voice.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I deny.
“Yes you do. I’m flattered. What were you doing when you were thinking about me?”
“Even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you,” I declare.
“Please,” he sinfully begs.
Did our innocent and friendly conversation just go there? It did. I’m even more confused from the date, this past weekend and now this phone call. Yet, I’m so freaking horny. I need to redirect the topic now.
“Hold on a second. Okay?” I ask.
“Why?”
“I need to get out of the tub,” I blurt.
“Should I come over?”
“Why?”
“To offer my assistance, just in case,” he teases with a laugh.
“I don’t need help,” I jab.
“You sure?” he seeks.
“Yes.” I purposefully make him wait ten extra seconds after hearing his remark. “I’m back.”
“Now you can open it.”
Pinching the bridge to my nose, I press, “Why did you get me something?”
“Because it made me think of you,” he nonchalantly admits.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” I voice, still unnerved by the idea.
“I know, but I wanted to. Not because you got me something, but because, like I said, it made me think of you,” he charmingly declares.
“I didn’t get you . . . oh,” the realization sets in.
I did get him something.
“It was just a book.”
“The sentiment is still the same,” he replies. “Shoot. I’m sorry I need to go,” he comments abruptly, snapping my attention back to reality.
“What? Oh, okay,” I say surprised at the sudden change in his voice.
“Please open it, Emma,” he timidly pleas.
“Okay,” I awkwardly agree.
“Goodbye,” he rushes.
“Fare . . .” I return just before the phone cuts the connection.
My heart sinks missing the term of endearment that has always ended his farewells of late.
Once off the phone with Joe, I brush my hair, rub on some organic coconut oil and put on my silk robe before returning to the gift. Sitting next to the box with one leg bent up on the bed and the other dangling off the edge, I carefully untie the ribbon and lift the lid, letting it slide off on its own. With scrupulous precision, I peel back each fold of the white tissue paper. I can see hints of blue as the last sheet of paper unfolds. Holy crap, it’s one of Nathan’s dresses that I wore yesterday during our little fashion show.
Luscious memories of the soft muted blue silk hugging my skin returns, taking my attention away from the note that rests on top of it. This was my favorite dress to put on. It’s still as gorgeous as I remember it with it’s plunging v-neck and spaghetti straps that hug and fit perfectly to my body as it accentuates every one of my curves.
My focus gets pulled to the hand written note I suddenly realize I’m holding. It reads;
Hope to see you wearing this in Hawaii.
xoxo Joe
Why did he buy this for me? How did he get it without anyone noticing? I can’t accept a gift like this. It costs way too much compared to a little book.
I place the note on my dresser and hang the dress on my closet door. I put on pajamas and scoop out a few more helpings of ice cream. Turning on a movie to distract myself, my mind wanders back to the dress and the note. Mixed emotions tornado through me for the rest of the night. Laying in bed next to Sadie trying to sleep, I stare at the ceiling. My heart pounds with elation and edginess. I’ve never had a guy buy me something. Okay, a guy who isn’t Jared or Nathan. Why did he do it? What does this mean? All I gave him was a book.
A loud, vibrating sound jolts me from my thoughts. What was that? The sound repeats itself again. Ohh, it’s my phone. Picking it up off the nightstand, I check to see who would be calling me this late. Jared and Maggie never call at this hour. A picture of Joe’s face consumes the entire screen from a picture I inadvertently took of him during one of our weekend trips. Shit.
I let the phone ring another time before pressing the button to answer. Lacking a polite greeting, I blurt, “Why did you give me that?”
“Ah, so you finally opened it,” he muses.
“You have to take it back,” I demand.
“Why do I have to take it? It doesn’t fit me,” he needles.
“You know what I mean,” I press.
“Aside from the fact that you looked simply radiant in it, you were positively glowing,” he sensually states.
“That has nothing to do with it,” I contend.
“What’s the big deal,” he questions.
“Why did you buy it for me?”
I’m really struggling to understand.
“Like I said, you looked beautiful in it . . . not that you don’t look beautiful all the time. I wanted you to have it because of how it made you feel wearing it. I saw it in your eyes,” he calmly replies.
“Ugh . . .” I let out on an exhale.
“You could just say thank you, enjoy the dress and wear it in Hawaii or whenever you feel like it.”
“Fine,” I whine.
“I’ll take that as your thank you. You’re welcome,” he boasts at his victory. “At least I didn’t give you that sexy bikini.”
Did the thought of giving me the bikini cross his mind? A lump catches in my throat. That would have been completely embarrassing. I’m grateful that he chose the dress instead.
Not knowing what to say next, we both sit on the phone for a while just listening to each other breathing.
Unable to take the silence any further, I spout, “Why did you call me so late?”
“Because I knew you’d be up,” he says.
Checking the clock on the phone, I notice he’s right. It’s only eleven thirty-eight.
“What are you still doing up?” I explore.
“I was debating on whether to call you back,” he admits.
“Oh,” I reply modestly.
How long was he thinking about calling me?
“Why?” I search.
“Because I figured you’d be mad at me once you opened your gift,” he responds meekly.
“Oh.”
His admittance catches me off guard. Did he really think I would be mad? I’m not really mad, just uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry,” I offer.
“What are you
apologizing for?”
“I don’t know. I just . . . I just don’t want you to think I’m mad.”
“So, you aren’t mad?” he checks.
“No,” I assure. “I’m just really shocked at the gesture. I don’t know what to make of it.”
His husky chuckle returns. “You’ve gotten gifts before, haven’t you?”
“I’ve given a lot, but I’ve never really gotten one before,” I openly share.
“I’m sure Jared, Nathan, Maggie and her family have given you gifts,” he urges.
“Yes, but that’s different,” I explain.
“How is that . . . ohh . . .” his voice trails. “So none of the guys you’ve been with have given you a gift?”
“I don’t date remember,” I remind.
“I’m sure you’ve seen some of the men a number of times which would have allowed for the opportunity,” he mentions.
“Nope. My rules keep me at distance that don’t allow for anything like that to happen,” I comment.
Laughing again, he states, “You and your rules.”
“Yep,” I return.
“So what are they?” he pokes.
“Why do you want to know?” I peruse, confident that I won’t tell him.
“Just in case I can convince you to break one or two,” he goads.
“None of your business,” I press back.
“That’s fine,” he says unfazed. “I have other sources who will tell me, if they haven’t already.”
Dread soars through my veins. What does he mean by other sources? I know. Maggie, Jared or Nathan. What does he mean if they haven’t already? Have they shared willingly whether he’s asked or not?
Changing the subject, I offer, “I should probably let you go. It’s late and you have work in the morning.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he confronts.
“No,” I oppose.
“You remember that I’m the boss and make my own schedule, right?” he teases more than reminds.
“Yeah. I know,” I affirm.
I don’t know what to say and I don’t necessarily want to let him go. I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing.
“I’ll let you go. I’ll see you Thursday,” he says after a while.
“Thursday,” I repeat.
“Goodnight, beautiful. Sweet dreams.”
“Goodnight, Joe.”
Twenty One
The past few days have been met with glorious, chaotic frenzy. I haven’t been tremendously busy with work tasks that need to be done, but to help pass time and take the edge off of the anticipation of Hawaii, I’ve invented new ones, especially by coming up with more functionality and options for the Raven 1.0 software. I went rebounding on Tuesday and Wednesday at the trampoline facility in Glendale on top of going last Sunday with my friends. Maggie and I took a trip on Monday to some of the outlet shops to do some pre-vacation wardrobe hunting. It was nice to spend half the day with Maggie without any boys tagging along. I also lined up with a lunar hair chart for her and I to get our legs and bikini area waxed and eyebrows threaded later the same day.
Last night, Maggie and Henry stayed at Joe’s to make it easier to leave. I decided to sleep at home to be safe, but joined them all for dinner at Joe’s. Anna cooked a wonderful meal.
Luckily, I’m a very punctual woman, so I’m ready and waiting by the time Maggie uses her key to my apartment fifteen minutes early Thursday morning. I’m greeted by Maggie, Henry and Joe, all offering to assist with my bags while Jimmy and Allen wait in the limo. I have my bags in the small foyer area which thankfully restricts how far everyone comes in. A confident smile graces Joe’s face as he passes the threshold. Ignoring his blatant victory expression meant only for me, I indicate which bags are going with us and Sadie.
We pull into a private facility in Van Nuys and are dropped off right in front of a plane. Everyone follows Jimmy and Allen up the ladder and into the monstrous vehicle as I gape in wonderment. Joe pulls my arm, guiding me to the stairs. Looking back over my shoulder, I see Anna and the driver taking all of the luggage from the trunk as the crew delicately grabs each bag and places it in the undercarriage of the plane. I’m glad to know that I packed a few items in my large purse just in case.
Joe gestures for me take the steep stairway first. I contemplate on whether he’s being a gentleman, wanting to get a view up my dress or both — I’m flattered either way. I signal for Sadie to head up first and I’m right behind her. At the top of the stairs, I freeze in amazement, causing Joe bump into me.
“Sorry,” I offer.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, just soaking it all in.”
I’ve seen photos of luxury, private jets, but to see it in person has a completely different effect on the mind and body. The plush, executive interior is alluring and seductive. Anyone could easily get spoiled with this kind of flying.
Walking in, I find a four person couch lining the front, left side and across from it are four reclining chairs paired on either side of a table. Behind the second set of chairs is a small counter with glasses in a cabinet above and drinks tucked inside a cubby superseding another table and chairs that seats six. I place my purse down on the counter not sure where I might sit; everyone is standing and talking.
Getting ready for take off, Maggie and Henry sit at the front table and the rest of us get situated at the rear table. Grabbing my purse, Joe hands it to me as he offers me the window seat. He sits next to me with Allen to his left, Jimmy in front of Allen, Jared across from me and Nathan in the middle of Jimmy and Jared. Sadie squirms under the table and rests between my feet with her head on my lap.
“You going to buckle up,” Joe interrupts my train of panicked thought as I watch the crew outside the plane.
“What?”
“It’s Emma’s first time flying,” Jared announces, causing my cheeks to warm.
“Here,” Joe says, reaching over me to grab the strap before snapping it on the left side.
The luscious scent of Joe fills my nose, calming and exciting me all at once.
“Thanks.”
“How are you holding up, Emma?” Jared inquires, reaching and offering his hand.
“I”m okay,” my voice cracks.
“You’ll be fine once we take off,” he assures.
“You’re safer in a plane than a car, you know,” Joe adds.
“Mmm hmm,” I hum unconvincingly.
As the plane taxis, I grip the armrests with my left hand and squeeze Jared’s with my other as I watch out the window. I do my best to minimize my anxiety as the guys gab freely. As the massive contraption hurls down the runway, my heart pounds thunderously in my chest and sweat forms in the palms of my hands. At some pint, I feel a warm sensation discretely wrap around my cold left hand. My eyes dart to the all of the men around me to see if they notice Joe’s hand on mine. They’re thankfully distracted by their lively conversation. I release the death grip my hand has on the armrest, turn it, and interlace my fingers with Joe’s as he extends our hands further under the table to prevent us from being caught.
Once the plane reaches its required altitude, Jared and Joe let go of my hands. I watch Joe unbuckle his belt and then mine, promising me that it’s safe. For the rest of the journey, everyone floats throughout the cabin chatting to help pass the time. I don’t move other than to get up and use the restroom. I sit, read or work on my computer unless someone comes over to talk to me. Most of the time, either Jared, Nathan or Joe stay with me at the table other than Sadie who doesn’t leave my side.
Lunch is served a few hours into our flight and everyone gathers around the back table so we can all dine together. Jimmy and Allen share a seat, one on top of the other’s lap, to allow Maggie and Henry to join us. Anna serves a variety of bitesize sandwiches, fruit and iced tea. I make a point to try each food choice and they are all delicious.
We land in Hawaii just after two West Coast time which is eleven Hawaiian-Aleutian Standard Time. Three
pearl white Teslas are waiting for us as we exit the plane. My knees tremble with excitement as the solid reassurance of land is under them again.
I enjoyed flying. It didn’t remind me of anything like that of being in a car. I’ll definitely have to start traveling more by plane.
Upon entering the Four Season’s Resort in Maui, everyone is greeted warmly and given leis. Our bags are taken to our suites as we are checked in. Henry, Maggie, Jared and Nathan are registered to the Maile Presidential Suite while Jimmy, Allen, Joe and myself are registered for the Lokelani Presidential Suite.
Entering the suite with Joe, Jimmy and Allen, I instantly know that Henry has paid way too much for our accommodations alone. I nonchalantly check pricing with my phone as I pretend to marvel at the exquisite space — everything that my eyes fall upon is gorgeous. At a minimum of four thousand dollars a night, the Lokelani Presidential Suite can easily sleep eight adults with it’s over six thousand square feet, three bedrooms, private first floor gardens, three full baths, two three-quarters baths, a kitchenette, living room, dining area, and media room. There are a variety of amenities that come with our room, but the idea of the price for two suites for five nights is astronomical. I can easily afford the trip myself, money isn’t the challenge. It’s the fact that Henry insisted on covering the majority of our expenses; that is the challenge for me. It makes me very uncomfortable and I need to figure out either how to accept it or how to pay my share.
Joe comments at some point during our tour of the suite.
“Huh?” I question since my attention has been primarily on the Four Season’s website. “Oh, yeah. Thanks.”
“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” He steps closer and takes my phone, slipping it into my bag.
“This is my room. I heard you,” I repeat.
The bellmen brings all of my bags right into the room and Alika, our private concierge, offers to hang all of my clothing. I politely decline. I’m a little weirded out at the idea of a stranger, let alone a straight man, riffling through my bags and handle my garments. The thought of Joe even doing it bothers me.
Alika takes Joe and me on a tour of the rest of the suite, directing our attention to a variety of indoor and outdoor options. He also mentions that he’s happy to assist us with any of our needs during our entire stay. Alika shows me how to prop the sliding glass doors open from my room to allow Sadie to have access to the outdoors at any time she is in the room. He also mentions that he and several other staff will check in our suite from time to time to make sure that all of our and Sadie’s needs are meet, including dog clean up.
Just Breathe Series (Trilogy Box Set) Page 29