by Tamie Dearen
I’m not going to act like a silly school girl with a crush on the captain of the football team. Let’s be sensible. He doesn’t think of me as anything but an employee and possibly a good buddy. He could care less what I wear, as long as I cook a nutritious meal for him. So I’m going to close my eyes, reach onto the bed, and grab the first thing my hand touches. And that’s what I’m going to wear… no matter what.
Stretching as far as she could reach, her fingers closed on a piece of silky fabric, and she opened her eyes to examine her choice. The lime green shirt with orange horizontal stripes hung in her grasp, mocking her. Why did I ever buy this? With a stiff gait, she moved to the corner of the room where a small trashcan was tucked beside a desk. The offending shirt found a new home, and Laurie pulled on a pair of jeans and dug to the bottom of the bed pile to find her favorite black blouse.
When the taxi dropped her off at Finn’s building, with an armful of groceries, she regretted her clothing decision. She felt way under-dressed in the posh lobby, where the concierge greeted her, wearing an expensive-looking suit. He directed her to the elevator and put in a key code that allowed it to go to the penthouse.
The concierge must’ve called upstairs because Finn was standing in his doorway when the elevator opened. She was relieved to find him in jeans and a t-shirt with the image of a computer and the words, I hear voices in my head, but they speak Java. Studying him closely, she noted his face was thinner, but a healthy glow had returned to his skin. He might’ve lost a pound or two, yet she could still see his muscles flexing beneath the thin material covering his chest. A wide black band covered the PICC line on his arm. It wasn’t until she felt her stomach relax that she realized how worried she’d been. The image of him lying in bed, unresponsive, was forever etched in her mind.
“You look nice.” His compliment was hard to believe, since his face turned a deep shade of crimson. Either he was lying or embarrassed from the effort of being polite.
“Thanks. I just threw something on.”
“Come on in.” He swept his hand ahead of him. “What are we having for dinner?”
“Chicken enchiladas. I make them pretty spicy…”
She forgot what she was saying when her eyes fell on the grand piano—mahogany wood gleaming, centerpiece of the large living area. Standing like a statue, she barely noticed when the grocery bags lifted from her arms.
“I’ll put this stuff in the kitchen. Go ahead and check it out.”
She crept close and slid onto the bench, her fingers reverently brushing the tops of the keys. She played a few notes, relishing the rich sound as it reverberated in the room. Unable to resist, she let her fingers reproduce the only song she could play by memory, Fur Elise, pleased when she only stumbled a few times.
The clapping behind her almost startled her off the seat.
“Well done.”
She turned with a hot face to glare at his mocking, but his expression was sweet and sincere.
“I know it’s childish and easy compared to what you can play.”
“Not at all. You play with emotion, and you have a nice touch. You definitely have musical talent.”
“Really? You’re not just saying that?” Her chest swelled, though she suspected his evaluation was generous.
“It’s not the difficulty of the music that makes it beautiful. It’s how it’s played.”
“Well, thank you. The piano is amazing. Do you play often?”
He nodded. “It’s my reward for doing my nightly CF treatment.”
“Will you play for me? I’m dying to hear you.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up in a crooked smile. “What if I serenade you while you’re cooking dinner?”
“I’m guessing you’re hungry.” She followed him into the kitchen where he’d unpacked all her groceries in a neat and orderly fashion. “You go play, and I’ll get these ready and into the oven. It’s my mom’s recipe—hope you like it.”
“Shall I show you where everything is?”
“Nope, I think I can find what I need. It’ll give me an excuse to poke around in all your drawers and cabinets.”
His eyes sparkled as he laughed. “I cook all the time. I’ll know if anything is missing.”
“I’d steal this whole kitchen if I could hide it in my purse. Not that it would fit in my current apartment.”
His eyes narrowed. “Speaking of your apartment… I’ve done a little research, and I think I’ve found a safer place. It’s not too expensive.”
“Mind your own business, Finn. I’ve got school loans up to my eyeballs, and my place is dirt-cheap.” She searched until she found a cutting board and knife and started slicing the chicken breasts.
“There’s a reason it’s dirt-cheap,” he said, sullenly.
Hoping to divert his attention, she paused and cocked her head. “You have an awful lot of energy for a guy who almost died last week.”
“I didn’t almost die,” he protested.
“Could’ve fooled me.” She returned her attention to the chicken. “But the whole reason I’m here is because you told me you’d be all weak and feeble.”
“I never said feeble.”
“Pretty sure you did.” She bit her lips to keep from laughing.
“I didn’t say feeble. I would never use that word. It sounds like a little old lady.”
She dared a glance and spotted his pouting lip.
“Why don’t you go rest that feeble body on the piano bench and play for me?”
“Okay, you win,” he said, with a deep chuckle. “What do you want to hear?”
“Anything. Everything. For sure play some Chopin and Bach. They’re my favorites.”
“Chopin and Bach? Such opposites.”
A glance over her shoulder showed his forehead knotted in a thoughtful frown.
“I like Chopin because it’s got so much feeling in it. And I like Bach because it fits together like a puzzle.”
“True. Bach is like math for music. How do you feel about Rachmaninoff?”
“Love it, but I can’t play it.” She held up a hand and wiggled her fingers. “My hands are too small.”
“True. I’ve got the reach for it. Guess I’ll go play for my dinner.”
He wandered out of the kitchen and moments later, the most beautiful strains of a Chopin etude rang out, the hardwood floors carrying the sound into the kitchen. So flawless was the execution, she tiptoed to the living room doorway to be certain it wasn’t a recording. She could only see his back, but even so, his body projected the intense emotion of the song. With a sigh of contentment, she went back to her work.
“I think I owe him the best chicken enchiladas of his life.”
“Best enchiladas ever,” he declared, as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. Her pleased smile was like a reward.
“It’s because I had the most inspiring music to work by.”
“Now where’s that pie you mentioned?” His mouth was already watering at the thought. “What kind is it?”
“It’s a chocolate pecan pie, but I can’t believe you have room for dessert after all the enchiladas you ate.”
He patted his flat stomach. “If this body has given me one blessing, it’s the ability to eat as much as I want without getting fat. Though I haven’t exercised in five days, and I can already feel the difference.”
“Not me. I can just look at food and gain weight.”
“You look good to me.” The words rolled off his tongue before he could stop them, and she ducked her chin.
That sounded like flirting. You’re supposed to be buddies, remember?
Fortunately, Laurie lightened the mood. “Thanks. You’re not too bad either… for an old guy.”
“An old guy?”
She stood and began to gather the dishes from the table. “I’m only twenty-eight. You’re in your thirties, right? That makes you old, as far as I’m concerned.” Her mouth twitched at the corners.
“I’m only five years older than you.” He
picked up two serving dishes and followed her into the kitchen.
“Five years can be a lifetime. That’s how long it’s been since…” Her voice trailed off.
“Since what? What were you going to say?”
“Since I graduated from college.”
He sensed this wasn’t the event she was originally referring to, but he didn’t push. In a short time, the dishes were done and leftovers put away.
“I should be going. I’ll leave the pie here for you.” She tucked a stray curly strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze aimed at the floor by her feet. “You need to get your rest.”
She was right. It was already late, and he hadn’t started his nighttime CF routine. Yet he wasn’t ready for her to go.
“We should go over a few work details first,” he said, thinking he could talk her into pie afterwards. “Let me grab my laptop and we’ll sit on the couch.”
The ploy worked, and thirty minutes later they were relaxing on the couch, having settled on an order of events for the fundraiser event, only differing slightly from the previous year. They sat side by side, though she carefully preserved a space between them—an invisible wall. Yet the space did nothing to block the intoxicating scent emanating from her skin and hair, fresh and citrusy. Every minute they spent together made him crave more. And tonight, her love and appreciation for piano music had tipped him over the edge.
I like this woman.
It had happened, as he’d always feared. The smart thing to do was to stay far, far away from Laurie Fields. But, like a kid fascinated with fire, he wanted to get closer, despite the risk of being burned.
“By the way,” he asked, “have you reserved the company jet for us?”
“The jet?” She blinked rapidly.
“Phantom Enterprises owns one. Most of the time it’s transporting kids and families across the country for treatment, but we use it from time to time. It may be too late, since the event is only three weeks away. Sometimes we lease one for a few days at a time.”
She studied her fingernails, her hands fidgeting. “I was planning to take the train. Save some money. I figure every little bit we save in expenses helps the kids.”
“Oh...” His gut churned. He hated admitting his weakness. “I try to spend as little time as possible in confined spaces with a lot of people. I can fly commercial and wear a mask. But… if people recognize me, I feel like—”
“Gracious! I’m so sorry.” Her right hand came down over his left, a thoughtless gesture that set his heart thudding against his ribs. She babbled on, unaware of his pending cardiac episode. “I wasn’t thinking about traveling with CF. Of course, it would be better for you to fly on a private jet.”
He gently laid his right hand on top of her fingers, nodding as she continued her speech, while he concentrated on the incredible soft texture of her skin.
“I didn’t mean to imply there was anything wrong with you flying in a private jet,” she said. “I could still travel by train and save us some money, though.”
“If I’m flying in a private jet, it won’t cost us any extra for you to fly with me.” He trailed his fingers up the back of her hand, swirling a circle across her tendons. He noted, with satisfaction, when her eyes blinked closed, opening slowly to half-mast.
She snatched her hand away, locking her fingers together in her lap. “But I have to go early… Dara said she goes up about a week before Jarrett does.”
Her lower lip trembled, and suddenly his eyes were riveted. He imagined how it would feel to press his mouth to hers, to caress those delectable lips. Were they as soft and supple as they looked?
It was foolish. He knew better. It could never work. He was only setting both of them up for pain and heartache. He absolutely, positively, could not allow himself to kiss her. He had to exercise self-control.
Then the tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips. His self-control flew out the window and crashed to the ground in a heap.
Before he knew what was happening, his hand was under her chin, tilting her face toward him. Her lips parted, breaths coming quickly. He searched the depths of her bottomless brown eyes, looking for an answer to his unasked question. He saw nervousness… indecision… passion…
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured, as his fingers drifted along her jawline, down to her neck, and behind her head to tangle in her hair. His other hand stroked the soft skin on the side of her face, while her lids drooped as if he’d drained her essence with his touch. When her palm came up to rest on his chest, his heart pounded, attempting to leap into her hand. He leaned in slowly, drawing out the moment. Her lips were so close he could feel their heat.
Then a loud bump sounded behind him, and Laurie sprang away, smoothing her hair in place.
Her brows arched high over rounded eyes. “Cole!”
Finn whipped around to face Cole, who dropped his suitcase on the floor by the front door.
“What are you doing here?” Finn demanded, as Laurie buried her face in her hands.
“I came back from Bran’s place so my poor sick friend wouldn’t be by himself when he just got out of the hospital.” He grinned like a kid at Christmas as he sauntered over to sit on the chair opposite the couch. “But it looks like you weren’t suffering all alone, after all.”
“You couldn’t have called first?” Finn balled his hands into fists.
“It’s after nine. You’re usually through with your CF treatment and sound asleep by now.” Cole flipped his hand toward them. “Please, don’t mind me. Go on with whatever you were doing.”
“We weren’t doing anything,” Laurie protested between the fingers covering her face.
“Look,” Cole said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. “Whatever’s going on between the two of you, I think it’s great.”
Finn growled. “There’s nothing going on between us. Nothing.”
“That’s not what it looked like to me,” said Cole, waggling his eyebrows.
Finn spoke with his jaw clenched. “Cole Miller, if you breathe a word of this to anyone, so help me, I’ll post every picture I have on social media, including the one of you streaking across campus.”
“Pretty desperate, if you’re going all the way back to our college days for ammunition.” Cole let out a belly laugh as he rose to his feet. “I’m going to leave you two lovebirds alone. But Laurie…” He waited until her hands dropped down far enough to expose her eyes. “Whatever you did to loosen this guy up… nice job.”
Chuckling, Cole maneuvered his artificial arm to stick a mechanical green thumb in the air, before strolling away at an unhurried pace. Finn kept his eyes trained on his ex-friend until he’d retrieved his bag and retreated to his room.
“It’s late. I need to go.” Laurie tried to stand up, but Finn caught her hand.
“Wait. We need to talk about this,” Finn said.
“Talk about what?” She jerked her hand away and scampered to her feet, backing away. “You’re the one who said it—there’s nothing going on between us.”
“Yes, but…” He rubbed his temples, suddenly throbbing. “I didn’t mean nothing. There’s something going on. It’s just not something something.”
“Well, that’s crystal clear,” she said sarcastically, hugging herself as if a chill wind were blowing. “What exactly is this…” She circled a hand between the two of them. “This something?”
What should he say? That he was attracted to her? That with her, he felt more alive than he had the last thirty-three years? That her love for music had lifted their relationship to another plane? That it was all he could do not to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless?
And what would that mean for Laurie? His mind jumped forward in time and pictured her, draped in black, tears streaming down her face. Alone. Heavy responsibilities looming in the future. She’d already experienced some sort of emotional abuse. Though not intentional, wouldn’t he be doing the same thing—taking his happiness at her expense?
“I thin
k you’re an amazing person.” He swallowed hard, averting his eyes. “And you’re going to make some lucky man incredibly happy.”
“I see,” she said, stiffly. “Some man. But not you.”
“Not me.” The words stuck in his throat like dry crackers.
“So that kiss that almost happened a minute ago… Was that you letting me know you’re not interested?”
His stomach churned, threatening to expel his dinner. How could he have been so selfish?
He darted a glance at her, flinching at the anger and hurt he saw in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I lost control. I find you physically attractive, and I just couldn’t help myself.”
“So, you like the outside of me, but the rest of me doesn’t live up to your standards?” From the corner of his eye, he saw her swipe the back of her hand across her eyes.
“I didn’t say that.” He rubbed his fingers on the aching jaw joint in front of his ear. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Then what happened?” Her voice cracked.
“It’s just…” He grasped for a reasonable explanation. “You’re my employee. We can’t do anything to jeopardize the work at Limitless.”
“And we could have a relationship if I didn’t work for you? Is it my station that bothers you?”
“You’re putting words in my mouth.” Head ducked low, he stared at the leather of the couch. “It was just a kiss. That’s all. Only a kiss. A kiss that didn’t even happen.”
“You know what? I think I understand now.” Her shuddery breath was followed by silence, her glare burning into the back of his head until he was compelled to lift his gaze to meet hers. She stood with her chin held high, eyes swimming in tears. “I think I owe Cole a big thank you for walking in on us. Because that kiss-that-never-happened was no big deal to you…” Her voice dropped to a whisper, her lips trembling. “But it meant the world to me.”
Finn dropped his head into his hands. What could he say that would undo the damage he’d done? He was still searching for a response when the front door creaked open, jolting him from his thoughts.