by Groovy Lee
“How long has it been since you last saw him?”
“Exactly one year this month—I think.”
“I see.” A brief pause then, “Would it be too personal a question if I asked you whether there’s a chance of the two of you getting back together?”
Her breath caught in her throat. The question was personal, and coming from Indigo Farrell, no less. She’s not used to dealing with him on such a social basis, her legs were still wobbly from that slow dance. But still, ex-fiances’ are the one thing they have in common. “No. There’s no chance of that ever happening.” The day they parted she knew as Mickey walked away, that it was over for good, and in her heart it was the right thing. His career was his life; The mistress that would keep him happy.
“I see,” he repeated and fell silent for the rest of the drive. “Is this the place?” He asked a few minutes later as they pulled up in front of the light-blue house where the small address numbers were hardly noticeable under the dim light.
“Yes. Thank you again, sir.” She offered him a nervous smile.
One of his rare smiles appeared in return. Even under the street lamp she could feel his eyes lowering to skim over every curve of her body. Gracie’s skin grew hot and moist; Her fingers tapped a few times against the purse lying in her lap. Should she say good-night and just get on out? And why was he looking at her that way? As if he’d just noticed she exists? She opened her mouth to thank him once more when he moved, causing her to jump. His strong arm touched lightly against her ribs as he reached over and pulled the latch on the passenger door to open it.
“Good-night, Ms. Gracie Allen Jenkins.”
“Good-night, sir,” she whispered, then swung her legs out and up onto the sidewalk.
He was watching her, she could feel it as she strolled with as much dignity, yet quickly as possible, to her front door all the while fumbling in her purse for her keys. After unlocking it, she turned and waved. Mr. Farrell tapped his horn then drove away. She closed the door and slumped against it, grateful to be inside safe from her boss’ overwhelming presence.
She stood in front of her dresser mirror and slid her soft, yellow nightgown over her head onto her freshly, bathed body with the tragic events of the evening still replaying in her mind. It bothered her that Mr. Farrell had to rescue her from that catastrophe of a blind date and deposit her safely on her doorstep. Although he wasn’t much older than she, the incident still made her feel like a silly teenage girl who had been caught by her strict father. She grimaced at the thought of having to face him at work in the morning. Maybe he will have pushed the whole ugly incident from his mind like she plans to.
After giving her hair a few more brisk strokes, she slid into the cool sheets on her bed, lying there in the night thinking of her dance with Mr. Farrell. The feel of his hard body against hers; The way he held her so close to him as they swayed. She imagined a kiss then scolded herself for such a ridiculous fantasy. The realization that the great Indigo Farrell, albeit the sexiest man to walk this planet, wasn’t as emotionally stiff of a CEO executive in human form after all, stayed with her until she fell asleep.
CHAPTER TWO
“You had some date last night, huh?”
The hot, June sun blazed in the east corner of the deep, blue sky; A warm but welcomed breeze ruffled the leaves of the palm trees overhead. Gracie and Bitsy sat in her old Toyota Corolla early morning trying to get it to start, but it staunchly refused.
“I see Heather wasted no time filling you in,” she glanced at Bitsy with a critical eye, then resumed the difficult task of starting the car.
“Come on, Gracie. She was really upset by the whole thing. She didn’t know the guy would turn out to be such a jerk.”
“She shouldn’t have asked me out on that stupid date to begin with.”
“She realizes that, and she’s sorry.”
“Is that why she left so early? So, you could apologize for her?”
“She didn’t know what kind of mood you would be in this morning, so she went on to work in her car.” Bitsy watched her struggle with the ignition for the tenth time. “She’s really sorry.”
“I know she is.” Gracie gave up and leaned back against the seat. “I’m just letting her sweat a little. Next time, she’ll think twice before asking me out on a blind date again.” She tried once more to get the car to start.
“What’s wrong with old Ironside?” Bitsy leaned over to glance at the gas gauge.
“I don’t know. It’s been doing this a lot lately. I’m really going to have to get this thing fixed before it goes out on me completely. Either that, or get a new one after we return from London. Although, I really don’t want to be saddled with a car note for the next four years.”
Finally, but with much resistance, the engine coughed to life. Sighs of relief, and they were on their way.
“Is it true?” Bitsy asked as they maneuvered their way through the thick traffic.
“Is what true?”
“Was Mr. Farrell, head of Farrell Enterprises, your boss, sitting at the table behind you?”
“I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life,” Gracie frowned.
Bitsy switched her position sideways, eager to hear last night’s details straight from the source itself. “What did it feel like in his arms? I bet it was sheer heaven,” she announced loudly.
“Bitsy,” Gracie ordered. It was still a touchy subject that kept her up most of the night.
“Talk about your wildest dreams coming true. Imagine, being that close to Mr. Farrell. The both of you moving slowly to a soft, romantic tune. Sheer heaven!” Bitsy leaned her head back and laughed with pleasure. “You’ll be the total envy of everyone at the office.”
“Saya “Bitsy” Kimura, don’t you dare say a word to anyone about this. Do you hear?” Gracie’s stern words deflated her bubble of excitement.
“But why?” she asked, then clicked her tongue and turned back in her seat, fidgeting and pulling impatiently at her seat belt. “I should have known you would say something like that Miss Prim and Proper. Anyone else would be on cloud nine, but you want to keep it a secret. Whatever for?”
“It would only start a lot of gossip. You know how they are in the research department. They find out about last night and the next thing you know, they’ll have us in bed together.”
“And what’s so wrong with that?” Bitsy shot her a wicked wink.
“Not one word, I mean it.”
“Oh, alright,” Bitsy mumbled then sat quiet, her arms folded in an act of rebellion. “You really know how to take the fun out of living. It’s exasperating at times.”
Much to Gracie’s relief, Mr. Farrell wasn’t in the office when she arrived. She went through the mechanics of putting her belongings away, then going through the emails in order of importance. She had just finished typing out the last business letter when the office door clinked opened, and a huge bouquet of flowers with a pair of legs attached to them walked in. Gracie at once went into payback mode having recognized those skinny legs. She crossed her arms in anticipation of giving Heather the what-for, but the mournful look on her face after she lowered the glass vase to her desk caused her intended actions to soften a few degrees.
“Good-morning, Gracie,” came Heather’s soft, apologetic tone.
“Heather.” Gracie held her stern one. After all, that girl deserved some reprehension for what happened last night and causing her to be humiliated in front of the entire restaurant—her boss. “What’s this?” she flipped a green leaf of the arrangement of Glads, Hollyhocks, and Daisies all beaming bright, bold colors.
“A peace offering from Tony and me. We thought it might help put you in a better mood this morning.”
“As opposed to last night? How lovely.” She touched the silky petal of the yellow, spotted Glad. “But really, you didn’t have to. Blood would have sufficed.”
“I see you’re still angry,” Heather lowered her head.
Gracie suppressed the urge to la
ugh at such a pitiful sight. “Why would I still be angry? It’s not every day one gets to go out with a two-hundred and forty pound engaged muscle head with a baby on the way. Why that story will go down in family history all the way to the tenth generation of my great-grandchildren.”
“Gracie,” Heather scurried around the desk to stand in front of her, her hands held out in a plea. “We had no idea that was going to happen. Tony hadn’t seen Duke in over a year. And all the times they’ve gotten in touch with one another on Facebook, that guy never once mentioned that he was engaged and about to be a father. Have a heart, o.k.? After Dee stormed off in a taxi, Tony really let into Duke at the apartment last night. Forgive and forget?” She topped it with an uneasy smile.
“Well—at least he didn’t insist on a threesome.” She couldn’t help that last dig. “Anyway, I’d long forgiven you; Although it’ll be a while before I forget. I know it wasn’t entirely your fault.”
“You mean you weren’t really angry at me?”
“I was, until I saw that pathetic look on your face. That was really a low blow.”
“Then why did you put me through such torture?” Heather placed her hands in a firm hold on her hips.
“Obvious, my dear. So, you won’t ask me out on anymore blind dates—ever.”
Heather broke out in laughter. “I’ve definitely learned my lesson. Blind dates are taboo from here on out.”
“Thank-you. You don’t know how much that pleases me.”
“Well, I’d better get back to work. I’ll see you at lunch, o.k.?”
Gracie just smiled at the retreating figure leaving out the door for the elevators. She sighed as she turned to her computer to begin work, happy that blind dates are nothing but regretful memories now.
After a light lunch, she returned to the office and went through the list of confirming Mr. Farrell’s appointments for next week. After placing the letters on his desk for him to sign, she had just stepped out of the office as Reid walked in.
“What’s up, Copper?”
“Hey. If you’re looking for Mr. Farrell, he’s not in yet. He called this morning and said he wouldn’t be in until late this afternoon. He should be here in another hour or so.”
“He must still be with his mother.”
She was just about to go around him for her seat when she stood frozen with a questioning glance. “What’s wrong with is mother?”
“You haven’t heard?” He took his usual perch on the corner of her desk, then began to inspect the huge floral bouquet. “Nice,” he sniffed at them. “What’s the occasion?”
“Nothing important. Heard what?”
“I don’t know all the details, but last night she was taken to the hospital. It’s nothing serious. She’s just there for observation. I’m certain that’s why Mr. Farrell isn’t in, yet.”
“Did he call you?”
“Yeah. He’s been conferring with her doctors all morning.”
“I’m glad it’s nothing serious.” She continued on to her seat.
“I’m sure everything’s fine. Say, how’s your plans for London coming along?”
“It’s all set. All that’s left is for D-day to arrive.”
“I know what you mean. As soon as I tie up some business ends here, I’ll be on my way to Canada for some R-and-R.”
“And, why are you taking your vacation in Canada? As if I didn’t know.”
“To see my old buddy and pal, your ex-fiance,” he teased.
“Of course. How silly of me not to have known that.”
“Hey, instead of going to London with your nutty friends, come with me and patch things up with Mickey.”
She turned her mouth up in displeasure.
“Just kidding,” he chuckled. “Hold your darts. But if there’s anything you want me to tell him, I’d be glad to pass it along.”
“A simple hello will do.”
“Will do. Well, I have to get back to work. Talk to you later.”
Gracie sat thoughtfully on the matter of Mr. Farrell’s mother and hoped everything was going well. She would offer any help she could when he returned to the office.
Two hours later, Mr. Farrell walked in. “Good-afternoon, Ms. Gracie Allen Jenkins.”
“Good afternoon, sir,” she looked up from her paperwork to greet him. Beyond his well made-up physique, was a worried, tense look about him. Did his mother take a turn for the worse? She watched as he sorted through the mail. Poor Mr. Farrell, he must have been up all night at the hospital. She was just about to offer her sympathies when…
“Hold all calls. I don’t wish to be disturbed today,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir,” was all she could say before the doors closed behind him. She figured his abrupt mood was due to the stress of his mother’s health; It would be best to approach him when he’s not so tensed.
Later, Gracie slipped the cover over the computer, then retrieved her purse from out of her desk. She was hesitant about disturbing Mr. Farrell who had been shut up in his office for the last three hours. He said he didn’t want to be disturbed, but she had to let him know she was leaving for the day. She made a light tap on the solid door and waited for a reply.
“Yes?”
She entered the immaculate office decorated in tones of silver and ebony, the colors of the labels on his merchandise. Mr. Farrell swirled the big, leather chair around from the window and linked his long, lean fingers together atop the gleaming, black desk. His eyes darted over her approaching figure before their eyes met.
“Yes, Ms. Jenkins.”
“Just wanted you to know I’m leaving, sir.”
“Is it that time already?” He held up his wrist to glance at the huge, silver watch. “I’ll be leaving in a few minutes. I may be a couple of hours late in the morning.”
“Yes, sir.” She took a deep breath, then, “Sir, I heard about your mother. Is she okay?”
“Oh, yes, she’s doing better. Thanks for asking.”
“Well, see you tomorrow.” She turned and walked away. When she reached the door, she glanced behind just in time as his chair was turning back around toward the huge picture window on the opposite wall, giving her the odd feeling he’d been watching her.
“Gracie,” Bitsy ran up from behind her as she strolled through the parking lot for the car.
“Hi. Ready to go?”
Bitsy fell into step beside her. “That’s what I came to tell you. Heather and Tony are going to this fabulous club tonight. They want us to go with them; They’re waiting for us at the front entrance.”
“No. I really don’t feel like going out tonight. I’m tired. I just want to go home, jump in the tub and relax. You go on without me.”
“You sure?”
They stopped in front of the car. “Sure I’m sure. Have fun.”
“O.k.,” Bitsy said then trotted away. “Hey,” she shouted from halfway across the parking lot. “I’ll bring you home a lobster.”
“A big one,” Gracie teased and waved a good-bye. She retrieved her keys from her purse then slid into the front seat. The same incidence from this morning repeated itself; It refused to start.
“Great,” she hit the steering wheel with her hand. She tried a few more times, but all she got in return was a dull moan. After checking for the check engine light, which wasn’t on, she sat back irritated and just watched as the other workers left for the day. When her mood lightened a bit, she popped the hood then got out to look under it, well aware that she couldn’t tell one hose from another, but thinking that maybe something would stick out. She searched all around to see if she could detect anything out of the ordinary, but to no avail. It all looked confusingly normal.
The evening sun edged toward the California coastline in the distant west. The day was still hot, and humidity was high. Many of the workers had eased out of their jackets as they headed for their prospective automobiles. A few of the male junior executives smiled at Gracie’s slim, tight-skirted figure draped under the hood. Two of them mov
ed to see if they could offer any help, but when they saw Indigo Farrell’s black limousine with the silver company lettering on its side pull up next to her and stop, they made a quick turn for their vehicles. Gracie noticed the limousine from the corner of her eye and straightened up as the back door opened and he stepped out.
“Are you having trouble with your car?” he asked once he got near.
“I can’t get it to start. I don’t know what’s wrong with it. I was just about to call a tow truck.”
He leaned over to inspect the oily engine then said, “Why don’t you leave it here. I’ll call my mechanic and have him come out and take a look at it. I can give you a lift home.”
“Sir, please, no,” she felt her heart skipping beats. “I couldn’t impose on you like that—not again. You gave me a lift home last night, and now, I’m inconveniencing you again. It won’t take ten minutes for the tow truck to be here. Heather and Tony can come and get me. Really, I’m fine.”
“It’s no imposition, Ms. Jenkins. In fact, as your boss,” he offered a warm smile much to her shock. “I insist you let me give you a ride home, and let my mechanic fix it—if he can,” he frowned as he looked over the inside once more.
She looked around the parking lot now almost deserted, wondering what to do. Maybe Heather will make Tony drive up and insist she go with them. But it was obvious that was not about to happen, and her only option was to accept. “If you insist, sir. Just let me get my purse from inside.”
She took her keys from her purse, unhooked the car key and laid it on the front seat for the mechanic, then walked away with Mr. Farrell to the limousine. As the vehicle sailed out of the parking lot and onto the main road, she took that moment to inspect her surroundings of black leather seats, a mini bar, tinted windows, and cool air-conditioning. She stole a glance at her boss who sat silently poised, legs crossed, looking forward.
“Uh, Mr. Farrell.”
His eyes met hers.
“Uh, if you don’t mind my asking, what happened to your mother?”