Just Breathe Series (Trilogy Box Set)

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Just Breathe Series (Trilogy Box Set) Page 44

by Martha Sweeney


  “I know a bit,” I slip.

  That’s not what I wanted to say.

  Laughing, Mr. Covelli continues, “Good. Hopefully, he’s only shared my good moments.”

  “Of course,” I declare.

  “Good. Good,” he states. “He’s done the same for you.”

  I smile at his comment. “Thank you.”

  Mr. Covelli leads the way into the dining room where place settings for four have already been put out. Anna offers us some drinks as small talk erupts while we wait for Mrs. Covelli to join us.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you had your two businesses?” Mr. Covelli investigates.

  Pleased with any easy question that I’m willing to answer openly, I explain, “I started Naturally Me, my online wellness blog website, when I was eighteen and my social media management company, Raven Media, when I was twenty.”

  “Impressive,” he commends. “How old are you now . . . If you don’t mind me asking?”

  “Thank you. I’m twenty-four.”

  “Ahh, the same age as Joseph,” Mr. Covelli states openly. “From what Joseph tells me, you never went to college.”

  “No sir,” I affirm. “I was homeschooled by my mother until . . .” my voice trails a little.

  “I’m sure she’d be very proud of you,” Mrs. Covelli adds, entering the dining room.

  “Thank you. I would hope so,” I reply, struggling to maintain a professional demeanor.

  This is not the time or place to allow memories of my parents to hinder me.

  “How did you get into starting Naturally Me?” Mrs. Covelli inquires.

  “I became interested in alternative healing methods from Maggie and her family which spear-launched my desire to learn as much as I could.”

  “Wonderful,” Mrs. Covelli comments.

  “And, then your second business?” Mr. Covelli reminds me.

  “A few years into Naturally Me, I started using social media to promote the website. When my staff and I were bogged down on time, jumping from one platform to another, I created the software to connect all of the accounts and maintain them in a centralized location,” I describe.

  Anna starts serving each of us, offering plates of breakfast foods to choose from as our conversation moves forward. I nod my desire or offer no thank you to Anna as she offers each choice.

  “You created the software?” Mr. Covelli checks.

  “Yes sir. With the help of two of Jared’s friends who are also programers and who currently work for Raven. Once the system was in place, we used it to easily promote both Naturally Me and Raven Media.”

  “How many clients do you provide services for now?” Mr. Covelli seeks more.

  “We have fifteen clients for the social media management services alone, not counting Naturally Me as a client.”

  “What other services do you provide?” Mrs. Covelli questions.

  “Social media marketing and strategic planning, media development and other advertising and marketing consulting services.”

  “Maggie is her COO for Raven and Jared is the same for Naturally Me,” Joe adds.

  “Yes,” I agree.

  “What are you looking to change with your company?” Mrs. Covelli peruses.

  “Joe had the idea that I should rework the current software to offer it as a cloud packaged based service for companies who already have their own social media staff. This way I can offer the same managing benefits to more companies minus the overhaul of directly handling their online marketing platforms and communication. Ultimately, I would like to switch to that service completely.”

  “How do Joe, Elaine and I come into play?” Mr. Covelli asks.

  I’m sure that Joe has filled his father in on a lot of this information, but perhaps he’s seeking to hear it directly from me.

  “The challenge is if there is a demand for the use of the software, and it increases beyond a certain point, which could happen rather quickly, the hosting company’s servers will be bogged down, causing them to run slowly; not to mention the potential security concerns. It would be better to create my own hosting company with my own servers and implement my own security software. That also makes the possibility to provide hosting and additional services as new streams of revenue, if I choose.”

  I give Mr. and Mrs. Covelli a moment to process what I’ve said.

  “My hesitancy to move forward is that I don’t have the funding to jump right into the ideal situation of having my own servers. I’m not interested in tying up a large portion of my cashflow. Raven Media has enough liquid cash to purchase either a building or the hardware needed outright as well as at least the first year’s worth of salaries, but not both and I’d like to minimize the use of a bank loan to do it.”

  I wait a minute or two for Mr. or Mrs. Covelli’s response, but they just sit and nod their heads.

  “My apologies. Did I offer too much information?”

  “No, no, my dear,” Mr. Covelli sweetly returns. “I’m just factoring certain pieces in my head.”

  Mrs. Covelli smiles as if she is doing the same.

  “Oh, okay.”

  “She literally knows every step that is required to move forward on this pretty quickly. She’s ahead of schedule already on the preliminary software,” Joe praises.

  “It sounds like it,” Mr. Covelli concurs, looking pleased.

  “Why don’t you just use the current server company and switch once you’re close to that point?” Mrs. Covelli investigates.

  “To switch over to a whole new system can take from twenty-four to forty-eight hours to occur, leaving our company and our clients without any services or functionality during that time.”

  “That’s a long time to not to conduct proper business,” Mr. Covelli states, showing his comprehension to the potential dilemma.

  “Precisely,” I acknowledge.

  “If you had the proper funding, how long would this all take to set up?” Mrs. Covelli inquires.

  “Since the product is digital, it would all depend on how long it takes to to close on a property, deliver the needed hardware, set it up and hire additional staff. My current team and I should have the software finished before the end of the year . . . after testing and retesting, that is. The first round of testing will start just after Maggie’s and Henry’s wedding.”

  “That quick?” Mr. Covelli says with a little surprise.

  “They already have the basis for the software. They are just building out the functionality to make it more appealing as well as secure,” Joe includes.

  “Interesting,” Mr. Covelli comments while Mrs. Covelli nods in agreement.

  “Costs can be offset by placing the servers underground to help with the cooling along with adding or refurbishing the facility to be as green as possible,” Joe adds.

  “They’ll be even lower with the new hardware company I have discovered. They use vacuum tubes which reduce the computing temperature significantly while simultaneously increase network speeds,” I mention.

  “You didn’t tell me about that,” Joe teasingly stipulates.

  “I know,” I playful contend. “I can’t share all of my secrets.”

  Joe gives me a look from my statement which forces me to bite the inside of my lip to refrain from our little inside joke.

  “Looks like another potential power couple,” Mrs. Covelli muses.

  “Indeed,” Mr. Covelli agrees with a widening smile as he looks back and forth to Joe and me.

  What does Mrs. Covelli mean by a power couple? Joe and I aren’t a couple.

  “Do we have specs and numbers?” Mr. Covelli checks.

  “Of course,” Joe returns with a smile. “And, I don’t doubt that they’ve improved with Emma’s discover of the new hardware.”

  “I have them right here if you’d like to see them,” I offer, reaching into my purse, grab my attache and handing all three of them a copy.

  After a few minutes of silence as they turn the pages to the five-pa
ge document, Joe announces with surprise, “You’ve reduced the initial cost by a quarter?”

  Smiling, I nod and verify, “The initial investment in a green facility will pay for itself in less than a year, each of the states with properties you are considering offer tax incentives for green technology, and if my calculations are correct, we’ll be over producing power, allowing us to sell the additional energy back to the utility companies.”

  “Wow!” Joe exclaims.

  “Exciting,” Mrs. Covelli comments. She exchanges a few silent glances with her husband as if they are speaking some kind of code. I can’t make out what they may be saying and watching them is extremely fascinating.

  ‘Well . . .” Mr. Covelli begins. “Draw up the paperwork, Joseph, and we’ll get started immediately. Whatever is needed, we’ll make it happen. This will definitely be a beneficial investment. Congratulations to you both!”

  A little nervous because I wasn’t expecting the Covellis to agree so quickly, my eyes dart back and forth to the three faces smiling at me. “Wait. What?” I stutter, revealing my shock.

  Is this really happening?

  “Don’t you need more time to consider? I mean . . .” my voice trails.

  “We’ve heard plenty of information. Between what Joe told and showed us earlier, Elaine and I were already convinced. Hearing it directly from you solidified the deal,” Mr. Covelli admits, taking his wife’s hand.

  “But we need to go over particulars, like percentages and how much and . . .” I anxiously blurt.

  “Emma, dear, those are all incidentals. I’m sure we’ll all come to an agreement on those pieces. For now, let’s just celebrate this joint venture. I’m sure we’ll figure out how to make it mutually beneficial,” Mr. Covelli diplomatically commands, dismissing the importance of the details.

  “Umm . . . okay,” I stammer, confused by the whirlwind of emotions bouncing inside of me.

  “Emma, are you excited about the premier?” Mr. Covelli inquires.

  “Yes, but the premier can’t be determined until we establish a facility,” I mention courteously.

  “No,” Mr. Covelli chuckles. “I’m referring to the movie premier, with Chris.”

  I preform a mental head slap, not catching Mr. Covelli’s redirection of our conversation to another topic. My eyes expand when my brain fully processes what Mr. Covelli meant. “Sure,” I offer a little too impassively.

  “You don’t sound too excited,” Mrs. Covelli states. “He seems like a very nice young man.”

  “Yes, he’s very nice. It’s just . . . the premier is a business transaction for me,” I explain my apprehension.

  “How is it a business transaction for you?” Mr. Covelli searches.

  “I’m a partial owner of Nathaniel’s,” I disclose.

  “She’s being modest. She’s more than just a partial owner,” Joe interjects.

  “Ahh,” Mr. Covelli says.

  “Did you two date at one point? That would explain his affection towards you and yours to him. I’m guessing you broke it off,” Mrs. Covelli specifies more than questions.

  Joe appears calm at his mother’s prying, but he does slightly shift in his seat.

  “I don’t date, but something along those lines,” I explain.

  “Ahh . . . well, regardless, make sure you allow yourself to have some fun. The boys will be there along with your friends, so you’ll have plenty of pleasant distractions,” Mrs. Covelli presents kindly.

  “I will. Thank you,” I reply.

  It takes a minute or two for our conversation to strike back up again. Mrs. Covelli keeps things light by asking me questions about our recent rip to Hawaii and any details about Maggie’s and Henry’s wedding I can share.

  By ten minutes after eleven, I excuse myself from our meeting. I have to get home and change before meeting up with Maggie at the Li family home for more wedding preparations. Just as Joe is escorting me down to his car, because he insists on driving me the half mile home and not taking no for an answer, we see Jimmy and Allen when the elevator doors open. They’re happy to see that I haven’t left and assert that they will join Joe and me. Jimmy and Allen say that they have yet to see my home and felt left out since everyone else — everyone but Chris — know where I live.

  I was a little disappointed that it wouldn’t be just Joe and myself. For some reason, I was hoping to have some time with him. I need to explain that we need to back off or because of what Jared and Nathan were hinting towards the other night. At the same time, I was happy to have Jimmy and Allen to tag along. They are really fun to hang out with, and given the fact that I have my period, having them around makes it less awkward, preventing the chance for things to evolve further with Joe. I’ve heard of some women having and enjoying sex when it’s that time of the month, but the whole idea bugs me out. I don’t think I’ll ever be that comfortable with someone to even consider it.

  Jimmy, Allen and Joe join me in taking Sadie to the park after we get to my door. Once we’re back to my apartment, they peer around, commenting on a variety of things before I rush them out with Sadie and me. They try to get me to agree to have them drive me down to the Li home, but I politely refuse, explaining that it will only take me about ten to fifteen minutes to get to Maggie by train. If we drive, it would talk more like forty minutes or longer with LA traffic.

  The rest of the day, I’m with Maggie until she drops Sadie and me off at home just after eleven at night. Still processing the verbal agreement Joe, Mr. and Mrs. Covelli and I have pertaining to business, I refrain from telling Maggie anything. I don’t want to jinks the good news and want to wait until I’m with her and Jared at the same time. I need to make sure that Joe doesn’t say anything either. I text him and he graciously obliges. He asks if he can stop by, but I decline. I’m mentally and physically tired and the last thing I want to explain to him about putting the breaks on any physical interaction is all due to Jared acting weird and my menstrual cycle.

  Thirty Eight

  The next morning, as I’m returning from taking Sadie out for an early, peaceful, morning jog, I stop in my tracks as she bolts towards our door. Sadie never leaves my side until we’re in the hall, but today is different. She’s in a full run. Why? There are only one of four reasons she would do it — she sees Maggie, Jared, Nathan, or — Joe.

  “Are you stalking me?” I allude, squinting my eyes at him as I approach.

  “No . . . not unless you’d like me to,” Joe counters in his delectable sexy voice.

  “The sexy voice won’t help you,” I sass with a smirk.

  “You sure?” he surveys, pulling me into him.

  I easily submit to his mouth.

  “Nor will a kiss,” I tease, staying close and just barely letting go of his lips. “This is the reason why I don’t let men know where I live. They think they can just stop by anytime they want.”

  Joe takes the keys from my hand and unlocks the door without saying a word. We stay close until the door is open enough for me to squirm out of his reach.

  “So why are you here, especially this early in the morning?” I pry, heading towards the kitchen.

  “I didn’t get to properly say goodbye yesterday after our meeting since Jimmy and Allen tagged along,” he reveals, closing in on me while I gulp down some water.

  “You’ve gone days before . . .” I begin.

  “Exactly,” he interrupts, erotically hijacking my mouth for several beats. “I couldn’t wait days to feel you again.”

  Not caring about the sweaty mess I am from running, I surrender to him. I’m not sure what exactly happens until I feel him lowering me onto my bed. The weight of him pinning me down ignites my itch and I moan, wanting more. Why now? Why couldn’t he wait a few more days? I want this — but not like this, not with two more days to go with my period.

  Barely shifting his body or removing his lips from mine, Joe manages to shrug out of his shirt. His skin feels like hot stones that have been sitting in the sun. Not too hot t
o touch — just hot enough.

  Shaking my head, I mildly protest even though I continue to kiss him back. Joe grabs my hips and rolls us to where he is under me and I’m straddling him. In one swift movement, he glides us to a seated position and has my shirt tugging away from the top of my head. Great — not my other Achilles’ Heel which is being on top! Damn it!

  My arms tighten around his shoulders until his mouth moves to my chin and begins sweeping down my neck. I feel my thighs squeeze around his legs as my hips starts to lightly grind him. Joe’s hands grip my ass like he’s encouraging me to keep rocking.

  “No . . .” I pant, pushing him away with my hands on his chest.

  “Why?” he groans, but doesn’t stop his pursuit on my neck as he heads down to my collar bone.

  “Because . . .” I try to rationalize it out loud.

  It makes sense in my head why, but I don’t want to explain the real reason to him, let alone the fact that I need to leave soon.

  “Because, why?” he seeks, slowing his pace.

  The only thing I can come up with other than, I have my period, is, “Because I don’t want to break two rules at the same time.”

  With a smile returning, Joe investigates. “So you do want to . . . .”

  Before I’m required to give any kind of an answer, my head jerks towards the kitchen when I hear the buzzer. “I need to get that,” I announce still sitting on his lap. “I’m waiting for a package to be delivered.”

  Joe chuckles. “I’m right here.” His lips continue their track up and down my neck.

  I purse my lips at his cute response. I totally set myself up for that. Joe holds onto my waist as I try to dismount him. The buzzer goes off again. My eyebrows lift as I give him a glare. With a smile, he tugs at the nape of my neck, seeking a kiss before letting me go.

  As I get out to the kitchen area, my phone chirps and the buzzer sounds a third time. I yank my phone out of my purse as I head to the door. Maggie’s calling. I can call her back in a second once I check who’s trying to come up.

  “Hello?” I greet a little out of breath, pressing the buzzer button.

  “Hey! I forgot my key and I really need to pee,” Maggie answers.

 

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