He pulls on my collar, shifting me several inches away from where he had me jammed and shoves me towards the door.
“Get out!” he yells. “Get the hell out before I make you sorry you questioned me.” He points his forefinger at me; it’s like a knife. The rest of his hand is in a large fist with that finger waving towards my face. “Don’t you sit in judgment of me, Macey. I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to find a job, but there ain’t nothing out there for me. You get it?”
I nod quickly and leave the kitchen. I head straight for the bedroom, grab my purse, and put on my shoes. My hair is in a rough mess: a pony tail twisted into a tatty scrunchy from when I was taking my shower. I have no make-up on and I barely took a mouthful of breakfast, but I get out of that apartment fast. I’m dreading the day that this new streak of violence that Drew is showing escalates into something more serious than foul language, name calling, and the occasional shove.
Down at the bus stop, I look back at our apartment block. I’m still shaking and I can’t understand what snapped in Drew. He isn’t the man I married. I had realized that a while ago now. The Drew who walked me down the aisle was a sweetheart, an enthusiastic nineteen-year-old with ambition and dreams of becoming an engineer.
I was seventeen when we married. I hadn’t finished school but I was so in love with Drew that when he told me he was taking me away from that small-minded, small town of ours, I couldn’t wait. Only problem was, when I left home, my momma told me never to come back. I make my bed; I lie in it. She told me Drew was no better than that red neck, drunk of a father like his and now, eight years later, I’m beginning to see that she was right.
The bus comes and I get on. I can rush into the bathroom at work and fix myself up properly before I get to my office. As I sit down, I try to take myself back to a few hours ago. I was nice and warm in bed. Drew had his arm around me. It felt good. Bit by bit he had inched up the Mickey Mouse nightdress I was wearing so that my boobs were showing. My pussy had already moistened, ready for his big, morning erection. He had played with my anticipation, running a finger along my slit and spreading the moisture around the whole, hot interior of my pussy. He’d circled my nipples with his tongue before pushing his cock deep into me. I’d clung to him, loving every hard jerk of his pelvis as his hardness drove deeper into me. My orgasm was a wonderful mix of both vaginal and clitoral and I screamed with the ecstasy of it.
Maybe it was that feeling of complete satisfaction that let me drop my guard, that let me say all the wrong things and make Drew angry with me again. We had great sex, lots of it but these days, it seemed that was all we had. The love was dying; I could feel it slip away with every day. True, I was still turned on by Drew and with every love making session, I felt so close to him. But with every act of anger, I had to find reasons to convince myself that I should stay.
I get off the bus and walk the next two blocks to my office. I know how lucky I was to have gotten this job in the first place. I was wet behind the ears when Drew and I got to New York. My next door neighbor told me about the internship at the large marketing company her sister worked for and asked if I wanted to try for it. I jumped at the chance. I didn’t even know what marketing was, but I jumped at the chance because my neighbor had told me it could lead to a proper job and there was good money in marketing.
After the internship, I got lucky; they’d kept me on, trained me, sent me to college and now I was doing well as administrator for one of the sales teams and even on my way to another promotion.
I didn’t dare tell Drew that in a few months I might become a junior manager. He’d only get angry, disappear for hours, and come back blind drunk. That’s what he did most days. Drinking my earnings away when all I really wanted to use the money for was to get us a better apartment.
“Hey girlfriend!” Amy is always cheerful and always in the office before me. She is sort of my assistant but we’re good friends too. Amy told me everything about her relationship with Charlie, her boyfriend of eighteen months, but I told her very little about me and Drew, especially these days.
“Hey Amy. What you got there?” I ask as I put my purse down on my desk and sit down.
“These are donuts from that new place. I got you some; don’t worry. Coffee’s right there on your desk.”
“Thanks, Amy. You’re an angel.”
And she really is. She always has a coffee ready for me and she usually has some form of pastry to go with it, too. As a larger lady, Amy either thinks she needs to fatten me up because she thinks being curvaceous, as she calls it, is best. Or, she thinks I don’t get time for breakfast. Lots of mornings that might be true; if Drew is up, he’ll find a way to start something. When Drew is in a rage, like this morning, all I want to do is run out of the house, never mind anything else. I sometimes wonder if Amy might be a fly on the wall at my place and she knows what this past year has been like for me.
The fact is if my blood sugar gets too low, it’s likely I’ll pass out. It has almost happened a couple of times, so maybe that’s why Amy makes sure she has supplies of food ready for me.
“Just looking out for my boss,” she says. I smile and take the lid off my coffee. The steam is like heaven to me and I can’t wait to try it.
“I’m not your boss, not really.” I sip some coffee, exhale, and then remember my hair and make-up. “Back in a while, Amy.”
In the bathroom I fix my hair and make-up and come back to the office.
“Look at you,” Amy says in a sing song voice. “Trying to turn some heads are we?”
“Don’t be crazy,” I say and try to get down to some work. In the half hour I’ve been there, all I’ve managed to do is gorge on donuts and apply my make-up. But the indulgence makes me feel better about myself and about the morning I had. “As if anyone here cares what I look like,” I say.
“Don’t be too sure about that,” Amy says, swinging in her chair. She always wears black with one little something that gives a splash of color. Today it’s a bright patterned scarf, thrown playfully round her neck. Her hair is dyed vibrant red and she’s always smiling.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Macey! As if you don’t know, Adam Wainwright wants you.”
“Wants me? What are you saying?”
“Are you really telling me that you haven’t noticed how he’s in here every second of the day? When he talks, he’s only looking at you. And when he does, look how close he leans when he’s showing you what he needs to have done.” Amy shakes her head like I’ve just landed on the planet.
The truth is, I notice it all. Every lingering look, every lasting scent of his aftershave, and every knowing smile that comes my way when we pass each other in the corridor. But I’m a married woman and he’s a married man. I can’t kid myself that I haven’t thought about what it would be like to date a guy like Adam—and to do more than just date him. His body is as incredible as his looks, at least in his suits or his shirt and tie. I know he feels something for me. And even if we were both single, the office policy would put an end to us ever being together.
I think about Adam now; I think about what could have been if I’d been single when we first met. Instead, I’ve had to hear about his engagement and marriage to the beautiful Sherry Lancaster, ex-model and current television host.
“Then you must really love your husband deeply to not have noticed, Macey,” Amy gives another shake of her head. We’ve touched on this subject a few times but I’ve always tried to cut it short. I can’t give anything away, not even to Amy. The truth is a lot of sexual tension has been building up between Adam and me for months.
It started with glances, lingering looks, and standing very close when no one was around to see. Even a brush of his shirt sleeve against my arm if he was getting out of the elevator and I was getting in would send a shock wave through my lower abdomen. One time I was about to get on the elevator and he was going to come out but didn’t. He rode down with me, he stood behind me, close, in an otherwise empt
y elevator. I was sure he was trying to smell my perfume and I wanted so much to turn around and kiss him.
“You said Adam’s here every second on the day,” I laugh. “He’s not here now.” I raise my eyebrows and hands, looking around the office.
“He likes you, Macey. You better watch it. But, mind you, I could really see you with a guy like Adam.”
“I’m a married woman.”
“A married woman who never mentions her husband—ever. I talk about Charlie all the time.” Amy pauses for a moment but I don’t look up. “You guys are okay, right?”
“Fine,” I say, still not looking up.
“Really? I mean he never comes to any of the office parties. What is it you said he’s doing now? Where does he work? Don’t they give him time off?”
“What’s with all the questions about my marriage all of a sudden, Amy? Bored? I could find you lots to do.”
“I’m already loaded with work. I’m just curious about married life. Charlie’s talked about it, you know—getting married? But I’m not so sure. Seems to me marriage takes the spark out of every relationship. My parents are divorced, Sue in accounts just got her divorce, you never talk about your husband, and even Adam’s marriage is on the rocks.”
I look up sharply. “Who says?”
“Keep up girlfriend. Remember how they were in the papers and everything when they first got together? Ex-super model marries billionaire marketing tycoon? Well, according to the press, there’s trouble in paradise.”
“You can’t believe everything you read in the papers.”
“Mmm. I don’t know. Could be the reason he’s got his eyes on you. He wants to move on, baby, and you’re his next conquest.”
“For the last time, Amy. I’m married. Now do some work before I get you fired.”
There’s a soft knock on the door just before it opens. I know exactly who will be walking through it, just by the two taps he makes with his fist against the door. I look at Amy, she’s grinning. I look at the door and in walks Adam.
I swallow and try not to emphasize the deep breath I need to inhale as he appears in an aqua blue shirt, the same color as his eyes. His eyes are piercingly intense and surrounded by dark lashes. His dark hair is cut short and his shave is not so close today. A dark dusting of stubble on his defined chin makes a warm feeling grow between my legs. I need to get control. This feeling must never go beyond a feeling. It must never get physical.
“Morning, ladies.” Adam Wainwright’s voice is deep. He addresses us both but his eyes are on me. He looks down at the silky blouse I wear. I hope it isn’t creased from where Drew grabbed me earlier. I hope I look perfect for Adam and I know I shouldn’t be having those thoughts.
“Morning, Adam,” I say, but catch a look from Amy which implies that I was sounding too sultry to be professional. Not at all like a married woman.
“Hi, you look nice today, Macey.” Adam is right next to my desk. He’s got a pile of files in his hands. Strong looking hands with elegant fingers and, of course, his wedding ring. I dare to look into his eyes.
“Thanks, Adam. Is there anything I can help you with?” I say.
“As a matter of fact, yes there is. There’s the Mapleton account to run through. We’ve got that big meeting with them Wednesday and I needed to make sure all the administrative side was sorted before the pitch.”
“I believe it is.” I can tell this is just an excuse to get me alone with him. Adam has done this several times, no wonder Amy isn’t fooled. But I play along anyway because I love being near Adam. We haven’t touched each other or said anything in the least bit suggestive, but just being around him fills me with an excitement I haven’t felt in a long time. He makes me forget my problems with Drew and makes me feel like I’m a real woman again.
“I could do with a few assurances,” Adam says. “Maybe you could come up to my office towards the end of the day. My appointments are clear later, so should we say about five-thirty?”
“That’s fine by me, Adam.” Maybe I sound too enthusiastic about it, because Amy has turned her face away. I’m sure she’s grinning and trying not to laugh out loud.
As soon as Adam leaves the office, I throw a screwed up piece of paper at her.
“What’s your problem?” I ask. As if I don’t know. But five-thirty seems like a long wait before I can go up to Adam Wainwright’s office.
Chapter 2
I tap on Adam’s door even though it’s slightly ajar and I know he is expecting me.
“Come in, Macey,” he calls, and I let myself in. “You can close it behind you, not that we’ll get any disturbances up here. My secretary has left for the evening.”
“Oh.”
“Take a seat, Macey, don’t be a stranger.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I was wondering what else I needed to do to get the paperwork in order for the presentation. I thought I’d done a good enough job.”
“And you have Macey, you have. That’s really why I called you up. I wanted to thank you personally.”
“Oh we worked as a team, Adam. I can’t take all the thanks.”
“You don’t fool me, Macey I know what you do for this company. You’ve always been a hard worker.” He puts his elbows on the table and just stares at me. His expression is halfway between admiration and wanting to ask a question.
“Well, is there anything else?” I ask.
“Macey.” He leans back in his chair. “There is something. Something I’m sure won’t come as a surprise to you.”
I look down; I know what’s coming. Months and months of pent up feelings but never being able to express them are about to be put to the test. He wants to get personal. I panic. It’s frowned upon in this company and Adam of all people should know that.
“Something is happening between us, Macey. I know it and you know it. It’s torture having you in touching distance and not being able to just reach out to you, stroke your cheek, hold you around the waist.”
My eyes dart towards the door. It’s happening. “Adam, we can’t. Apart from the obvious, we’re both married. Remember?”
“It’s easy to forget I have wife, if I’m honest. Sherry’s work keeps her in LA a lot of the time.”
“So, you’re lonely? Is that what this is about?”
“Loneliness doesn’t come into it. To tell you the truth, I’m glad she’s not around much. All we do is fight, anyway. She’s at home right now but I won’t be going back there.”
“Why not?”
“I’m sick of the arguments. No. I’m staying at the Waldorf. She leaves in two days. Then I’ll go home.”
I can hardly believe what I’m hearing.
“All couples fight, Adam. You need counseling, not another woman.”
“You’re not just another woman, Macey. You’re special. I can see that. What I feel for you is−”
I stand abruptly. I can’t let him go on. Just the tender way he talks about his loneliness is making me weak. I know what it is to be lonely and I can’t allow myself to be swept away like this. It would be too easy to...
“Adam, I should go.”
He stands quickly and is across the room before I can get to the door. I turn to face him, my back close to the door. I could do with its support. I feel lightheaded with Adam so close. The smell of his body is fragrant and inviting. So different from the beer and stale cigarettes Drew always greets me with. Why can’t I have better?
“I didn’t mean to frighten you off, and I don’t want to sound like one of those sad bastards who cheats on their wives and stay with them anyway.” He steps away. “Look, Macey, I waited a long time to tell you how I feel. I don’t take it lightly. I know it’s over for Sherry and me, and if you want to wait until she and I are officially split up then so be it. But I just need to know... am I right? Is there something here?” He moves his hand between his chest and mine.
Instinct makes me take his hand. He smiles. I’ve given him the acceptance he needs.
“B
ut Adam, it’s complicated for me. You and Sherry might be unhappy, but my marriage to Drew, well that’s something else.”
Adam moves closer now, he’s gained confidence by my touch. I put my hands at my sides.
“Are you telling me that you don’t want this? That you want to stay with your husband?” he says.
“Drew. His name is Drew. I’ve loved him all my life. I’m his wife. I have to be there through the good times and the bad times.”
“Bad times? I knew it.” He paces away. “I knew you weren’t happy with him. Why else would I be getting this vibe off you?”
“Wait, Adam. Don’t get me wrong. I’m confused, okay? One minute things are great with me and Drew and at others... It’s just at other times he gets...”
“Gets what?”
“He gets really down and depressed.” I can’t tell him the whole truth.
“So you have to pick up the pieces? Is that it? That isn’t love, Macey.”
“Don’t tell me what love is. Look, I should go. We shouldn’t be... I shouldn’t be here like this. We have to stop all these games. People will talk.”
“Let them.”
“It’s easy for you to say. You’re not on my level; you’re an executive. If something happens here, we both know who’ll carry the blame.”
“We can be discreet.”
For one insane moment, those words ring true. What if I did allow Adam into my life? What if our relationship developed past the furtive looks, the brushing of skin as we pass each other, the smiles that run deeper than just friendly office banter? But I shake myself back to reality. I am married. I should go home.
Adam seems to be incredibly closer than a few seconds ago. His breath his fast and I can feel the heat of his exhale on my skin. I stare at his lips, soft, pink, and perfectly shaped. They part slowly and draw closer. I feel his fingertips tilting my chin upwards. I feel my body bend into the curve of his and we are touching, really touching, and his body lights mine up. His tongue is in my mouth, one arm is around my waist and I’m up on my toes, feeling liquid between my legs.
The Baby Shower Page 46