“And I’m glad I’m just ‘the girl with the soldier,’” Emmy said. “Besides, I’m proud of it!” Emmy reached across her desk and flicked a paper clip at Tabby. “Now get to work,” she said. “You’ll get us both in trouble.”
“Me?” Tabby asked. “You’re the one going on about Jagger Brodie’s behind!”
Emmy giggled again. “My grandma would have a cow if she knew I was joking about such a thing,” she said.
“Mine would probably agree with us,” Tabby whispered with one final amused giggle.
Ironically, a mere instant later, Emmy said, “Either way, don’t look now, Tabitha Flanders…because here he comes!”
Tabby glanced up to see the sales and marketing analyst for the company, Jagger Brodie, walking—rather sauntering—toward the PR office. Without realizing it, a heavy sigh of something akin to longing escaped Tabby’s lungs as she watched Jagger Brodie cross the main office space. He was entirely the most attractive man Tabby had ever known—not that she really knew him well, but she knew him well enough to know he was hot! Tall, dark, and handsome, Jagger Brodie looked as if he’d stepped directly out of some sort of trendy clothing store ad, only wearing a business suit instead of nothing but a pair of jeans. He had the deepest green eyes Tabby had ever seen, a flawlessly chiseled jawline, and ebony hair that alluringly beckoned to be combed with female fingers—Tabby’s fingers.
“Boom chicka wow wow!” Emmy whispered.
“Absolutely!” Tabby breathed as she watched Jagger Brodie saunter past.
She envied Jocelyn for a moment, knowing he was most likely on his way to drop something off on Jocelyn’s desk or to speak with her. Jocelyn got to talk with Jagger almost every day, whereas Tabby was lucky if he dropped graphics changes off to her once a week.
“Ba boom chicka wow wow!” Emmy whispered again. “He’s sporting a red tie today. Ooo, the power tie! He must be feeling confident.”
Tabby smiled, amused and yet simultaneously amazed at Emmy’s observation. She’d noticed the red tie too. “There’s a big marketing meeting this afternoon,” she told Emmy. “I heard he’s presenting some hardnosed material.”
“Then that explains it,” Emmy said, smiling. “Mr. Brodie’s about to rock the company’s world!”
“He already rocks mine…every time he walks by,” Tabby whispered.
Emmy smiled and stared at Tabby a moment with a mischievous expression on her face. “You should ask him out,” she suggested.
Tabby frowned, simultaneously smiling.
“What? Have you lost your mind?” she asked her friend. She was astonished Emmy would even suggest such a thing. Yet, at the same time, she wasn’t. Emmy was the most outgoing person she’d ever known—seemingly afraid of nothing.
“Not at all,” Emmy told her. “He’d go out with you. I know he would!”
“I’m not asking him out, Emmy,” Tabby said, shaking her head.
“I know, I know,” Emmy whined, rolling her eyes. “Old-fashioned girl and all that. Blah, blah, blah.” Emmy smiled, lowered her voice, and leaned toward Tabby. “Just do it. Just ask him out!”
“I’ve never asked a guy out in my life, Emmy!” Tabby exclaimed. “And I’m certainly not going to start now…especially with Jagger Brodie. Seriously, are you on drugs?”
“I suppose I can’t expect you to ask him out…when you hardly even talk to him,” Emmy sighed. “Still, you’re gonna mess around too long, and some other chick will net him.”
Tabby watched Jagger disappear into the PR office. She exhaled a heavy sigh of disappointment. An odd sense of longing washed over her—a longing for something she couldn’t quite put a label on.
“You know…back in the old days,” she began.
“Oh, no! Not one of your nostalgic soliloquies, Tabs,” Emmy teased.
Tabby ignored her friend and continued, “Back in the old days, everybody would’ve been more interested in his handsome face than in his tight bum.” She smiled at Emmy, adding, “They’d admire him for what an ambitious guy he seems to be, how hard he works, and how polite he is.”
Emmy’s eyes narrowed. She smiled. “Have you been reading Anne of Green Gables again, Tabs?” she asked.
Tabby shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Well, you can stare at his handsome face all you want then…but it won’t get you anywhere,” Emmy observed.
Tabby’s shoulders bounced another shrug. “It’ll give me some good dreams.”
“No doubt,” Emmy agreed. “But it won’t get you closer to making out with him in the break room.”
Tabby laughed. “Yeah. I’m so close to making out with him now.”
“Sarcasm won’t get you any closer to it either, Tabitha Flanders,” Emmy scolded.
Emmy was so funny—the way she always said exactly what she was thinking, no matter what anybody else might say. Tabby wondered what it felt like to be so entirely uninhibited.
“Naomi would throw up if she could hear us now,” Tabby said, smiling as the vision of Jagger Brodie’s handsome face lingered in her mind.
Emmy giggled. “Oh, for sure!” Her eyes narrowed. Lowering her voice, she said, “Though all it would take is for the right guy to come along and Naomi would be as stupid about romance, love, and handsome boys as we all are.”
Tabby smiled. “Oh, I know it! I just wish he’d hurry and show up.”
“He will,” Emmy said, picking up a pen and wagging it at Tabby. “One day he will. One day, even Naomi will get all goofy over a guy.”
Tabby looked up to see Jagger Brodie exiting the PR office and heading back toward his own.
She glanced quickly to Emmy, amused as they whispered, “Boom chicka wow wow!” in unison.
When she looked back to Jagger Brodie, however, her heart leapt into her throat. He was looking directly at them! He smiled—a dazzling, mesmerizing smile—and his green eyes flashed with something Tabby feared was understanding.
“Ladies,” he greeted as he sauntered past.
“Good morning, Mr. Brodie,” Emmy managed to respond, though Tabby was too mortified at having made eye contact with him to say anything.
He stepped into his office, closing the door behind him.
“Oh, good one, Tabs,” Emmy teased. “And I thought redheads were supposed to be so confident and all.”
“Another urban legend entirely shot down,” Tabby said. She was disappointed in herself at that moment. How could she not even respond to his greeting? He must think she was an idiot—or worse, a snob.
“I’ve got to finish this design by lunch…so be quiet, okay?” she said, suddenly desperate to end her conversation with Emmy concerning Jagger Brodie.
“Ah, yes! Lunch,” Emmy sighed. “And the dashing Armando! He better ask Jocelyn for her number this time, or I’ll have to hire someone to take him out.”
“I know!” Tabby agreed. “There’s a new place that just opened, and next week’s my turn to pick where we eat. I don’t want to feel obligated to choose the Acapulco again…which I will if he doesn’t make a move today.”
“Don’t worry. He’ll ask her today,” Emmy said. “And we’ll be planning a wedding by summer.”
“Yours or hers?” Tabby responded, smiling as she swiveled her chair to face her monitor more directly.
“Maybe both!” Emmy giggled.
Tabby sighed as she started working on her current deadlined project. Even if Armando didn’t ever ask Jocelyn out—even if it wasn’t meant to be between them (which she hoped it was)—it would be great to see Emmy and Luke get married over the summer. Emmy and Luke belonged together—they absolutely did, no matter what anyone else might think. Tabitha Flanders held to her hope that true love—true commitment to love—wasn’t really as rare as it sometimes seemed. She knew Luke and Emmy would prove that it wasn’t about to become extinct. Furthermore, if it was rare or not, she hoped she would one day find it—prayed that there was one man left in the world who could love her the way she dreamed of being loved. She wan
ted to be that man’s obsession—the only woman who could ever own his heart—and she wanted to love him the same way—thoroughly, singularly, and forever.
CHAPTER TWO
Tabby couldn’t help but smile as she watched Jocelyn write her phone number on Armando’s forearm with the permanent marker the waitress had provided.
“I mean, really,” Emmy whispered to Tabby. “How else are you gonna give your number to a guy who’s wearing nothing but a towel?”
Tabby bit her lip to keep from giggling.
“So I’ll call you tomorrow to get directions to your place?” Armando asked. He smiled at Jocelyn, his dark eyes flashing with eagerness. “And I’ll come for you at seven in the evening.”
“Okay,” Jocelyn giggled. Her cheeks were as pink as watermelon pulp, her eyes glistening with delicious anticipation.
Armando kissed the back of Jocelyn’s hand. “Then I will count the minutes until we are together,” he said.
“Me too!” Jocelyn sighed.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” Armando said. He winked at Jocelyn and left.
Instantly, Jocelyn squealed with delight. “He asked me out!” she squealed. “He really did ask me out!”
“He’s too good to be true,” Naomi offered—though Tabby was amused to see that Armando’s charm had obviously bewitched even practical Naomi a little, for she sat twisting a strand of dark hair around one index finger. “I mean,” Naomi began, looking as if she’d only just realized that some men could be charming, “nobody procures a gorgeous Latin lover simply by going to a restaurant and watching guys dive off replicated cliffs. It just doesn’t happen.”
“Anything can happen, Naomi,” Tabby said, smiling at her skeptical friend. “Anything.”
“But we don’t know a thing about him!” Naomi exclaimed. “He could be, like, a member of the Columbian drug cartel.”
“Oh, don’t be dumb, Naomi,” Jocelyn said. “Armando’s not Columbian. He’s Puerto Rican.”
Tabby and Emmy giggled. It was unlike Naomi to make any sort of academic mistake, and she scowled at them.
“And besides,” Jocelyn added, “he feels good to me.”
“Feels good?” Naomi asked. “When did you ever have the chance to feel him?”
Again Tabby and Emmy laughed, for Naomi’s humor was often based on the fact she was such a literalist. Jocelyn, however, rolled her eyes and looked at Naomi as if she were the biggest idiot on the face of the earth.
“Are you kidding me, Naomi?” Jocelyn asked. “I swear, you want everything to be so exact. I just meant he feels good to me. There’s a good feeling about him. You’ve had good feelings about people and bad feelings about people, haven’t you? You know what I mean. I don’t feel threatened at all where he’s concerned. No warning lights are flashing in my brain; nothing’s telling me not to trust him. I think Armando is honest. I think he’s sincere in what he says.”
Naomi shook her head, however. “He said he was in love with you the first time he saw you, Jocelyn,” she reminded. “How sincere can he be?”
“He said he thought he might love me,” Jocelyn corrected. “And that’s entirely different.”
Naomi shrugged, sighing, “Well, take your pepper spray all the same, girl.”
Tabby looked quickly to Emmy as her friend unexpectedly gripped her forearm. “Hold on to your flip-flops, honeys!” Emmy said. Emmy was wide-eyed and gazing toward another table.
“Why?” Tabby asked.
“Boom chicka wow wow!” Emmy breathed. “Check it out. Looks like the Derrière inator knows Armando!”
“What?” Tabby gasped, instantly following Emmy’s line of vision.
“The Derrière-inator?” Naomi asked.
But Emmy simply waved a hand dismissing Naomi’s question. “Later, Naomi,” she said.
“Check that out!” Jocelyn exclaimed in a whisper as Tabby watched Armando pause at a table some distance away—a table at which sat none other than Jagger Brodie and several other men from the office. “What are the odds?”
“Probably a thousand to one,” Naomi whispered.
Jocelyn frowned, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean literally, Naomi.”
“They’re shaking hands!” Emmy whispered. “Smiling. Now they’re laughing!”
Tabby watched as Armando indeed offered a hand to Jagger Brodie—as Jagger shook Armando’s hand and smiled. The two men finished their handshake by bumping fists, and Armando patted Jagger once on the shoulder.
“Now how in the world could they possibly be acquainted?” Naomi asked.
Tabby shrugged. “Who knows?”
“Who cares?” Jocelyn exclaimed. “It’s awesome!”
The girls watched in silence as Armando and Jagger continued to converse for a moment. Eventually, however, they shook hands again, and Armando walked away.
“You guys, let’s leave now so we can walk by his table and Tabby can talk to him!” Emmy suggested.
“Oh, yes, let’s do!” Tabby said, feigning delight. “I can just sit right square in his lap, wrap my arms around his neck, and plant one straight on his kisser.”
“Yeah! Exactly,” Emmy giggled.
Tabby smiled, shaking her head. “You better lay off the antihistamines, Emmy. They’re eating your brain.”
“Oh, come on, Tabby,” Jocelyn whispered. “Let’s do it! Let’s just walk past him and see if he notices us.”
“He’ll notice you, Joss,” Tabby said. “He knows you.”
“He knows all of us,” Jocelyn countered.
“We haven’t paid our checks yet,” Naomi reminded them.
“Then you go by yourself, Tabby,” Emmy suggested. “Just go to the restroom or the gift shop or something. We’ll wait here for the waiter to bring our checks…and you just go somewhere—anywhere. Just walk past him.”
“I’m not doing it,” Tabby scolded in a whisper. Even the thought of walking past Jagger Brodie caused her insides to begin to quiver with nervous anticipation. She couldn’t imagine what would happen if he actually looked up at her as she walked by—if he actually uttered a greeting or something.
“Come on, you redheaded vixen,” Emmy prodded. “Just do it! Just go to the gift shop and buy something—a card, a candy bar…anything.”
“Redheaded vixen?” Tabby asked, smiling—amused at Emmy’s entirely ridiculous choice of words.
“Go on, Tabby,” Jocelyn urged. “What have you got to lose?”
“Yeah! Here’s your chance to redeem yourself for ignoring him earlier,” Emmy suggested.
“Do it, Tabby. I’ll pay your check if you go,” Naomi said then.
Tabby looked to Naomi, utterly astonished at her suggestion. Emmy and Jocelyn were staring at Naomi with widened eyes and gaping mouths as well.
Naomi looked from Jocelyn to Emmy and back. “What?” she asked. “I like silly escapades as much as you guys do.”
“Escapades?” Jocelyn asked.
“Yeah,” Naomi said, smiling. “Go on, Tabby. Just walk past him. That’s all. Walk past him, and I’ll pay your check whether or not he notices you.”
It was tempting. Oh, not the fact that Naomi would pay her check, thereby granting Tabby a free lunch—but just the chance to walk past him, the miniscule chance that he might look up and smile at her. Besides, Tabitha Flanders liked moments of stupid, silly girl stuff now and then. What good was it to have a sense of humor if a person wasn’t willing to use it?
“Shh! Okay,” Tabby said, shushing her friends as they all three giggled with delight. “I’ll do it. But if he actually looks at me or speaks to me…I might drop dead of shock, and then you guys will be sorry.”
Before she could rethink her rash decision, Tabby stood up, inhaled a deep breath, and started for the gift shop. She could feel three sets of eyes boring into the back of her head as she approached the table where Jagger Brodie and three other men sat looking over menus. Jagger was sitting with his back to her. She realized that if he did see her, it probably wouldn’t
be until she returned from the gift shop. The understanding caused her nerves to tighten, knowing she’d have to sweat it out a little longer. She wished he’d been sitting in the other direction so the moment of anticipation mingled with terror would pass more quickly.
“Hey, Tabby. What’s up?”
Tabby forced a smile, entirely disappointed that David Lowery had seen her approach first.
Disenchanted, nervous, and feeling quite thwarted, Tabby stopped and said, “Hi, David. We’re just having lunch.”
David smiled, and Tabby nodded a greeting to Josh Woodburn. Both men worked in product design at the office.
“This is my brother, Anthony,” David offered, gesturing to a man in maybe his late thirties sitting next to him. “He’s in town for a few days to give a lecture at the university.” David winked at Tabby. “A very interesting, highly intriguing, life-altering lecture on Victorian poetry.”
“Really?” Tabby asked as the man pushed his chair back and stood, extending a hand to her. Tabby accepted his hand, delighted by his gentlemanly manner. He was tall and good looking, and his dark hair, slightly grayed at his temples, gave him a very distinguished appearance.
“Yes,” the man said. “I’m just a boring old college professor, nothing like my gregarious baby brother here.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Lowery,” Tabby said.
“And you, Miss…” the man prodded.
A Better Reason to Fall in Love Page 2