Silk

by Heidi McLaughlin

  I took the bottle from him, careful not to touch his hand. He was still just looking ... or possibly leering at me, and neither one of us had yet to say anything. Suddenly, the silence seemed to loom over us. I fought the urge to run my hands through my hair. I didn’t want to appear as nervous as I suddenly felt.

  We were something else. So far, our interactions this morning had mostly involved staring at one another and engaging in a whole lot of inner dialogue. At least, there was a whole lot of inner dialogue on my part. I had no idea what, if anything, was going on in his head.

  The fact that I also had no idea of what had gone on the night before just made it doubly awkward. I was reasonably sure, however, that it hadn’t involved any staring or inner dialogue. My guess was that it had involved a lot of heavy breathing. I was more than a little sorry that I couldn’t remember it.

  With that thought, it was definitely time to get out of here. “Thanks for the Gatorade, but I’ve really got to get going,” I said. “I need to get into the office.”

  “It’s Saturday, you know,” he stated rather than asked. “What is it that you do?”

  His eyes were still dark empty wells. I honestly couldn’t tell if he really cared what my answer would be, but it didn’t seem like he was just being polite either. “I’m a junior associate ... a very junior associate ... at Harper, Conley, and Lowe.”

  While this information would have impressed the pants off most of my male suitors, it had no effect whatsoever on my current audience. He looked at me blankly. “So you’re a lawyer,” he said. “How fun.” The sarcasm dripped off of his tongue.

  My temper flared, and my inner dialogue set off on a diatribe. Why was I so mad? He knew nothing about me. As far as I could tell, we hadn’t spoken more than 50 words to each other. And yet he was right. What I did day in and day out was not fun. It gave me purpose though. “It’s a means to an end,” I answered coolly.

  “What end?” he replied with no emotion whatsoever.

  “Mine.”

  If he only knew, that one word provided so much insight. I needed to get out of here. His stare was making me more and more uncomfortable ... and more than a little furious, too. He hadn’t offered me breakfast. He hadn’t really even offered me a chair so I could drink my Gatorade. He was making no attempt whatsoever to stall my exit.

  I slung my bag back over my arm and backed out of the kitchen. I turned in the direction that felt like should be the front door. “Well, thanks,” I said over my shoulder. There was no warmth in my voice this time.

  I strode purposefully toward the door. He followed behind me, but kept plenty of distance between us. There would be no awkward kiss good-bye. That was something we could both agree on.

  I opened the door with no intention of turning back. However, his words, “I’ll see you around, Allie,” stopped me in my tracks. I stared ahead with my feet rooted to the floor and my hand frozen on the door knob.

  I had stopped introducing myself as Allie years ago. Only one person still got away with calling me by my childhood nickname, and he certainly didn’t give me the heart palpitations or temperature spikes that Mr. Hill was giving me.

  “My name is Alexis,” I said without turning around. My urge to flee was suddenly more than just a desire to preserve a little dignity.

  “Sorry. That’s what you told me to call you,” I heard him say as I pulled the door shut behind me.

  Interesting. Why would I tell him to call me ‘Allie’? I was pretty sure that girl didn’t even exist any more.

  ***

  It was Saturday so I wasn’t dressed in typical work attire. Even though I had made it into the office, I was wearing running capris and my favorite Columbia Law sweatshirt. I was going to make it in to the gym today no matter what. I had a lot of vodka and negative energy to sweat out. But, at the moment, I had my running shoes kicked up on Ethan’s desk.

  “So what the hell happened to you last night,” he asked. “One minute you were there, and the next minute you and Night Rider were staggering out the door without so much as a goodbye.”

  “Ugh. I don’t know,” I grunted. “We ended up at his place. It was crazy nice, by the way.”

  “Him or his place?” Ethan said while typing away on his computer.

  “The place. It was in Murray Hill. Isn’t that weird? And it seemed familiar for some reason. He was weird, too, though. Hey, what does ‘NSFW’ mean?”

  “Not suitable for work, why?” he asked, looking up.

  “He was wearing a shirt this morning that said that.”

  “Figures,” Ethan said. “I told you last night that I didn’t like him. There’s just something about him. I wasn’t comfortable with you leaving with him.”

  “You didn’t stop me,” I said. “Besides you never like anyone I hook up with.”

  “Because your taste in men sucks,” he said. “And your track record isn’t that great.”

  “My track record is exactly how I want it. And it’s not like I’ll ever see Adam again anyway,” I retorted.

  He looked me straight in the eye. “Adam, huh? Well, I hope you’re right because he’s trouble.”

  I was used to Ethan chastising me for my sexcapades, but this was harsher than usual. His motivation seemed different. He clearly wanted to protect me from this guy that he didn’t trust, but he also probably wanted to protect me from myself. It was giving me the warm fuzzies.

  He glanced down at the papers on his desk. When he looked up, his expression was more playful. He was ready to change the subject, and I was relieved. “What about Jay? You said he was all right.” He met my eyes, “And, frankly, I’m sick of listening to him go on and on about how hot and awesome you are.”

  I laughed. Jay was one of Ethan’s game-watching, six-pack-toting law school buddies. It was never going to happen. “You thought I was hot and awesome once, too,” I said, tossing my hair playfully over my shoulder. I wanted to distract him.

  “Yeah, and when you’re ready, I’m happy to go at it again,” he quipped. “Even if you are flat-chested.”

  “I am not flat-chested, and you know it,” I said, pretending to be offended. “Besides, Jay has a better chance.”

  “Ouch,” he said. I knew he didn’t mean it though. He wasn’t wounded by my rebuff. This was our relationship. We were both comfortable with it.

  “Speaking of flat-chested, how was Meghan?” I chided him. “She seems uber smart.”

  “She’s not going to discover any new principle of science, that’s for sure,” Ethan sighed. “But we are going out again tonight.”

  I looked at him like he had a hole in his head. “There is this thing, Alexis. It’s called a ‘second date,’” he said. “You should try it some time ... But not with Mr. NSFW.”

  ***

  After spending the entire afternoon writing a brief, I gave it up and headed to the gym around the corner from my office. It was late evening, and the sun was setting. People all over the city were geared up for another night out on the town. It didn’t matter to me that it was Saturday. All I wanted to do was work up a sweat and then have a quiet evening with a good smutty book.

  I stretched for a few minutes and then selected from the long line of unoccupied treadmills. I spent several minutes messing with my iPod until I found a playlist with just the right amount of angst to match my mood. I wasn’t sure why I was in such a mood. Though it probably had something to do with the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about Adam.

  I had met someone new. Most women my age would be engaging in mental acrobatics, conjuring up fairytale endings. In a matter of minutes, they would have themselves wearing a big white dress and uttering dreamy “I do’s.” In a matter of hours, they would be pushing a baby stroller in front of a white picket fence. Not me. I knew better. The fairytale ending wasn’t in the cards for me. I wouldn’t even let myself go there. But still I had been distracted all day by my curious encounter with NSFW. I replayed, over and over, his deep voice saying, ‘Allie.’ It
wasn’t dreamy. It was unnerving. There was no way that I’d told him to call me that. I hadn’t introduced myself as Allie in almost 10 years.

  I ramped up the speed on the treadmill to a challenging pace and prepared to sweat. My eyes scanned the room for something or someone interesting to watch. Even at times like this when it wasn’t particularly busy, the gym was never short of entertainment.

  It wasn’t long before I found what I was looking for. A large, older man in a canary yellow wrestling singlet was doing thrusters in the middle of the room. I couldn’t contain my chuckle. Who the hell wears a singlet to the gym? This 60-year-old man was certainly not one who could pull it off. I chuckled again as “Fat man in a little suit” buzzed through my head.

  I was so distracted by the Big Bird in the middle of the room that I almost didn’t notice Adam over by the pull-up bar in the corner. But there he was in all his glory.

  He had on long, black athletic shorts that hung on his hips in the same sexy way that his jeans had earlier that morning. He had exchanged his black t-shirt for a grey one. In the middle of it was a red and yellow piñata shaped like a donkey. And underneath the donkey, it said ‘I’d hit that.’ I stifled a smile.

  Adam was hot. It was ridiculous, really. As I watched him do pull-ups, I could feel my cheeks flush. What the hell was happening to me? I was turning into a simpering girl, like the ones that I always made fun of for chasing Ethan.

  More importantly, why was Adam at my gym? I was sure that I had never seen him here before. I would have noticed him. Besides, there had to be a dozen gyms closer to his apartment than this one.

  I looked down at the display on the treadmill. Damn. I was only 17 minutes into what I had hoped would be a 45-minute run. It didn’t matter. I had to get out of here, preferably without Adam noticing me. I hit the emergency stop button, and I bolted out of the gym without another thought. As I pushed through the revolving door, I was sure that I had successfully evaded his attention. I stopped for a minute on the sidewalk to catch my breath. My heart was racing. Unfortunately, I knew it was not from the run on the treadmill.

  For the second time in one day, I found myself running away from him. While I was quite adept at walking away from men, running away was an entirely different animal.

  CHAPTER 3

  Adam

  It hadn’t taken much to track her down since she had so freely spilled the not-so-small detail of where she worked. I told myself that it was almost as if she wanted me to find her. That she was asking for it.

  So for the fourth time this week, I found myself perched on a stool in the coffee shop at the bottom of her office building. Waiting and watching. Watching and waiting. As if I didn’t have better things to do than stalk a girl. A girl who I was pretty sure I wouldn’t even be able to speak to without tearing off her head and shitting down her neck.

  I was tucked in the corner of the room behind a display of insulated cups. So I wasn’t really worried about being spotted. However, I had an unobstructed view of the entrance to the shop. I was only two Americanos into my stake-out when she finally strolled in. As she approached, a woman met her from the opposite direction. She looked vaguely familiar to me, but I wasn’t sure why. “Alexis!” the friend gushed as she leaned in and air-kissed Alexis on each cheek. I groaned inwardly.

  In their complementary tweed suits and red-soled heels, the two reeked of more money and self-importance than the Kardashian sisters. Ms. Grey Tweed glided right past the guy leaning into the refrigerated case for a bottle of water and threw her expensive bag on the counter. She barked out an order to the Barista behind the counter. Grande in a Venti cup, half soy milk, half nonfat milk, extra hot, three shots with one-and-a-half pumps of sugarfree vanilla. Her coffee order included more adjectives than a Charles Dickens novel. There was no please or thank you at the end.

  I couldn’t hear Alexis’ order, but it also was long enough to be mistaken for a novella. She never cracked a smile at the poor sap behind the counter. I didn’t envy his job. In this building, he probably dealt with people just like them all day long.

  As she pulled her credit card from her equally expensive purse, I decided that she’d fooled me the other night in the bar. Her hair may be shorter and her laugh a little more worn, but Alexis Harper hadn’t changed at all. She was still the horrible little rich bitch I’d known in high school. Some things never change.

  Alexis

  It was after seven o’clock when I left the office on Wednesday evening. I pushed my way through the doors of the building and out onto the sidewalk. I’d intended to go to the gym, but after one meeting after another all day long, I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was take my weary body home, open a bottle of wine, and catch an episode or two of the Real Housewives.

  Running into Brittany Goddard at Starbucks was definitely the lowest point of my day. I hadn’t seen her since we graduated from high school. I’d heard she was here, but I’d never looked her up. She brought back memories that I didn’t really want to think about. At one time, we’d probably been so similar that we could’ve been mistaken for one another. Now I felt like we were apples and oranges.

  I looked down at my Chanel suit that was so similar to Brittany’s and shuddered. There had to be at least a dozen groups in Manhattan dedicated to providing professional attire to women looking for a new lease on life. I just needed to do a little research. I bet I had a dozen suits in my closet that would be happier and more appreciated in a new home.

  My stomach grumbled. What I needed right now was food, and there would be none to be found in my apartment. I was developing a bad habit of grabbing dinner on my way home. It was hard not to when I had to pass so many excellent restaurants on the six-block walk. Since I needed the essentials anyway, I headed in the direction of the gym, but swung into Capital Market instead.

  I walked up and down the aisles, leisurely picking up a pre-made salad, a bottle of grapefruit juice, a box of Captain Crunch, and a jar of Biscoff. I was thinking about the Biscoff and wondering about mixing it with the Captain Crunch when I rounded an endcap and turned onto the soup aisle. Distracted, I ran squarely into the backside of a man who was bent over reaching for something on a bottom shelf.

  Instinctually, I reached out to grab the back of his jacket as the man pitched forward slightly. My hand brushed his thin jacket. I could feel the tight muscles in his back straining beneath it as he easily caught and righted himself. A crackle of electricity passed between us. I dismissed it as static electricity, but wondered if I should check the bottom of my shoes to see if they had melted into the floor.

  “Excuse me,” he said with exasperation.

  “I’m so sorry,” I sputtered without bothering to hide my laughter. “But that is really quite an ass-pect.”

  The man turned to face me, and I found myself eye-to-eye with Adam. I sucked in a breath. He looked good enough to eat himself, and I briefly wondered if I could get him to crawl inside my basket. I had only a split second to consider Adam as a delicacy before his facial expression left me reeling. His dark eyes actually flashed with anger.

  My eyes widened in shock, and I winced a little. His anger was completely lost on me. I would have understood excitement at the possibility of a reunion. I would have understood annoyance if a reunion was the last thing he wanted. Even bland recognition would be better than this. But the angry man glaring at me had me stumped.

  I nervously ran my hand through my hair. “Uh, hi,” I stammered. “Fancy seeing you here in my neck of the woods.” I groaned inwardly. Had my Texas roots just reared their ugly head? I sounded like a hillbilly moron.

  “It’s a big city, Alexis. I don’t think you own this portion of it,” he said sharply.

  I had assumed based on the fishing license that he also had some Texas roots, but they certainly weren’t making an appearance tonight. I felt like a small child being scolded. “It’s just that I’ve never seen you around here before,” I answered.

  He cocked an eyebrow at me
in surprise. His face softened a little, but he still said nothing.

  “Plus, it’s not like your apartment is just around the corner,” I went on. God, I sound like a stalker. I cut myself off before I made a complete fool of myself.

  He let out a sharp laugh, and I realized that I must have said the stalker comment out loud. He looked away as if he was now the one who was uncomfortable. “I just left the gym,” he said. “It’s only a few blocks from here.”

  “Where do you work out?” I asked. I looked at him expectantly, as if I didn’t already know the answer to my question.

  His mouth turned up into a smirk, and his eyes crinkled at the edges. He was amused now. Crap. He knew. He knew that I had seen him the week before at the gym. He had probably watched me run out of there like my pants were on fire.

  “Equinox on Wall Street,” he answered.

  “Oh, me, too,” I said, not giving up on the lie.

  “Yes,” he said, not elaborating. The smirk had spread into a smile. Ugh. He really did think I was a stalker.

  Wow, he was not going to make this easy on me. He seemed to be enjoying my discomfort. It was definitely time for me to run again. “Yeah, so it was good seeing you,” I said as I started to back away. “Maybe I’ll see you at the gym or something.”

  He looked conflicted for a second as he seemed to go through some sort of mental warfare. Then he looked at the basket containing my odd assortment of groceries and came to a resolution. “If that’s your dinner, I’m not sure it will sustain you,” he said. “How about we go get some real food?”

  In the course of three minutes, I had watched this guy go from angry, surprised, amused, anguished, and now to inviting. Dinner didn’t seem like such a great idea. If I agreed, I would probably have emotional whiplash by the time we got to dessert.