Right Here, Right Now
Page 8
Leanne rolled her eyes and continued to grin. “Why do you argue with me? I can read you like a book.”
I shot a sneer her way and took another sip of wine. “Fine,” I conceded, as Leo jumped up into my lap, no doubt waiting for a nibble of cheese. “Fine, I’m jealous. Okay? Happy?”
Leanne continued to grin, even as she sipped her wine. Her brown eyes smiled at me over the rim of her cup. She swallowed and asked, “What are you jealous of?”
“The same thing I’ve been jealous of my entire life,” I said, resolutely. “My brother.”
“What about your brother?”
I narrowed my eyes at her, annoyed that she was pushing me to say it. “Fine,” I repeated. “I’m jealous that Alicia is into him.”
Leanne nodded slowly and sipped her wine, her expression pensive.
“What are you thinking?”
She shrugged. “Nothing, really. She just seemed to…look at you a lot.”
I furrowed my brow.
“It just seemed to me that she was more…into you.” As I stared in disbelief, she drained her cup.
“She’s going out to dinner with him,” I pointed out.
“Because he’s a client,” she answered. Then she stood up and tossed her cup and empty salad container into the trash. She shouldered her bag, came around my desk, and kissed the top of my head. “Whatever. I could be wrong. Just thinking out loud.” Then she rapped on the desk with her knuckles. “Don’t stay much later. Go home and get some sleep.”
“Thanks for the salad,” I called, as she exited the office and shut the door behind her.
Then I sat.
And sat.
And sat.
And I stared off into space and replayed Leanne’s words. She had to be wrong, didn’t she? Alicia wasn’t into me. Was she? How could she be? I mean, look at her. She was smart and funny and sexy and absolutely gorgeous. And she had my smart, funny, sexy, absolutely gorgeous brother interested in her.
“She pops by,” I said softly to Leo, as I stroked his back. A few beats of silence went by. “But no more so than any neighbor. Right?” Leo looked up at me. “She made me a smoothie that one time.” Leo cocked his head as if waiting for more. “She did bring happy hour to me when I was stuck working. And dragged me out with her.” My confused brain then decided to toss me a memory. The memory of that first day when she told me I looked tired and then brushed my hair off my forehead with her warm, gentle fingers. I had forgotten about it, but it came screaming back.
Could Leanne be right?
Because it was impossible for me not to, I pictured Alicia having dinner with Scott. The fancy restaurant, the elegant food and wine, the candlelight dancing off the copper in her hair, him being his usual, charming self. Then, of course, my dream came raging back and I wondered if Carmichael’s had a dance floor where Scott could hold Alicia in his arms and sway to the…
“Ugh. Stop it. Just stop it.” I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. “Enough.”
It was all so much for me to process, and I was much too tired to do it intelligently. With a sigh, I gave Leo a bite of chicken, finished up my salad, and cleaned up my trash. It was time to go home. My brain was fried, my eyes were scratchy, and my body was bone tired. Even Leo seemed extra low-key. I set him down on the floor and he immediately stretched out and fell on his side like road kill.
I gathered my things, gently scooped up my dog, and kissed his furry little face.
“Let’s go home, Leo. We’ll be back here soon enough.” A glance at the pile of folders on my floor tugged a groan from my throat. “Like, tomorrow.”
* * *
I never asked Mary to work on the weekends, even though I knew she would in a New York minute. It just didn’t feel right to me. It was my business, they were my clients. I paid Mary pretty well, but that didn’t mean I expected her to give up her life for three and a half months of the year like I did. That wasn’t fair. And honestly, knowing I could call her if I needed to and she’d show up inside thirty minutes was enough.
Leo was as tired as I was, and it made my heart swell with love for my little guy. He was curled up in his bed and stayed there through my first three Saturday clients, apparently having little to no energy for greetings, or even to do more than to lift his head. I had a vision of him doing that, muttering a very basic “hey” and going right back to sleep, and it made me grin.
I’d actually slept really well the night before, so I felt good. Fresh and clear and happy to deal with numbers and finances and government rules, and I spent the day working eagerly and efficiently. My last client for the day, a young woman named Kendra who worked in sales for a pharmaceutical company, had a ton of expenses and deductions and questions. She was much more organized than Mr. Baker, so that helped a lot, and when I finished her return and told her she was due a $2,174 refund, her eyes filled with tears. She got up from her chair, came around my desk, and wrapped me in a grateful hug.
“You don’t understand,” she said, as she sat back down and pulled a tissue from the box on the corner of my desk. “I’m going through a divorce. I just moved into an apartment. I totaled my car last month and need to get a new one. I feel like everybody in my life wants money from me right now, and I was pretty sure the government was going to be no different. I’m so relieved!” Her eyes welled up again, but she grinned at me, and I grinned back.
“Well, I’m glad to have helped.” I stood up and we shook hands across my desk. “You hang in there, okay?”
“I’m doing my best,” Kendra said, and I walked her through the reception area and opened the door for her. “Thanks, Lacey.”
“Sure. Take care.” I watched her walk to the stairwell door, which was being held open for her by Alicia Wright, who must have also been on her way out. She wore a bright blue top, and when she turned and met my gaze, her eyes softened noticeably.
“Hi there,” she said, a smile breaking across her beautiful face.
She’s happy to see me, my heart told me.
She had dinner with your brother last night, said my head.
It was business, countered my heart.
Taylor Swift hates you, too, said my head.
Low blow.
“Hey,” I managed, in a light tone, despite the head/heart battle raging.
“You’re working on a Saturday again,” she said as she came back in from the stairs and approached me.
“Tax season,” I said, then asked, “How was dinner?” much to my own horror, because it popped out without permission. And because I didn’t really want to know. I groaned internally at myself.
Alicia gave a moan of pleasure and dropped her head back, exposing her long, elegant throat. I swallowed hard as she pressed a hand to her chest and closed her eyes. “Your friend wasn’t kidding. To die for. I had a strip steak that could not have been cooked more perfectly. The wine list is huge and impressive.” Her face was dazzling as she spoke, animated and excited, making it impossible for me to look away. “They have their own pastry chef on-site, and the dessert menu is so unique.”
“Sounds great.”
“Oh, it was stellar.” When she opened her eyes, she fixed them on me, pinning me in place.
“Good.” I tried to turn to go back into my office, but my feet stayed riveted.
“We should go some time.”
That was unexpected. “I’m sorry?”
“You should go there. With me. Some time.”
“I should?”
She nodded and for the first time since I’d met her, Alicia Wright seemed a bit…uncertain. Nervous, maybe? I wasn’t sure, but a faint wrinkle had appeared on her forehead and she blinked several times, then shifted her weight from one foot to the other as I studied her.
“You want to go to Carmichael’s for dinner with me.” I stated it, didn’t ask it.
She nodded again, but as I watched, a calm seemed to settle over her. Her eyes cleared.
She smiled that beautiful smile, and I threw cauti
on to the wind. “Like, on a date?”
She nodded yet again. “Yes.”
The words were there, in my head, but I didn’t say them. Instead, I just looked at her and, somehow, she knew what I was thinking.
“Your brother is a client, Lacey. You…would be my date.” Alicia took a step toward me. My feet still wouldn’t move, and I let her into my space, let her close enough to breathe my air. She lifted a hand and, just like before, gently pushed my hair off my forehead, tucked it behind my ear, her fingertips brushing the sensitive skin there. The scent of peaches and cream filled my nostrils as she moved in even closer and her fingers slipped into my hair. I was still absorbing that fact as she leaned in, pressed those perfectly full, glossy lips to mine, and kissed me.
It was gentle. A little bit tentative at first, like she was testing the waters. She tasted like peppermint and excitement, and she pulled back just a smidgen to look into my eyes, as if gauging my reaction. Then she kissed me again.
My hands rose on their own and settled on her waist as I gave a little back, pressing my body gently against her, deepening the kiss just a touch, not wanting to scare her away, but not ready to be done yet. I held on.
Finally, she broke the kiss and took a small step back. When I opened my eyes, she was smiling tenderly. She rubbed her thumb across my bottom lip, raised her eyebrows, and backed away toward the stairs. “Just think about it,” she said, as she stepped through the stairwell door. Then she gave me a cute little wave and was gone.
I stood there in the hall and watched the door close behind her before her words echoed in my head.
Just think about it.
As if I’d be able to think about anything else.
I brought my fingers up to my lips and felt the smile appear. I continued to stand there for I don’t know how long, replaying that kiss in my head over and over.
When I was finally able to make my legs move again, I turned to go back into the office. Leo was sitting in the doorway, looking at me with what, I swear to God, appeared to be accusation.
“What? I didn’t do anything.” I shut the door behind me. It was the truth. I did nothing but stand there and be kissed. “I would never in a million years have made that move,” I said to Leo now, as he followed me back to my desk. The fact was, I hadn’t really thought such a move was even a possibility. Despite all of Alicia’s friendly-bordering-on-what-could-be-considered-flirting gestures, I was pretty sure she was either straight, out of my league, or both. Then I remembered Leanne’s comments and rolled my eyes, because she had been right. “I really should probably listen to her more,” I muttered. “Don’t tell her I said that.”
Concentrating on work after that proved to be very difficult, not surprisingly. My head kept tossing me images of Alicia’s face as it moved closer to me. I had sense memories of her mouth against mine, the softness of those lips, the tiniest touch of the tip of her tongue. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel her fingers at the back of my head, delving into my hair, tugging it gently. The forms on my computer screen might as well have been in Latin for how clear they seemed to me in that moment.
I got up and went out to the reception area to make myself some coffee. Maybe that would help me focus. Mug in hand, I went back into my own office, walked to the window, and sighed sadly when I saw no baby blue BMW in the lot. Yes, I actually sighed. Loudly. Like a schoolgirl. It was funny to me now that I’d had such a problem picturing Brandon or the mysterious Mr. Wright in that car, but the image of Alicia sitting behind the wheel, top down, sunglasses on, wind blowing through her sunset hair seemed utterly perfect and wildly sexy.
“I’m going to have to say yes to this date thing, Leo. You know?”
My terrier mix was curled up in his bed and didn’t even bother to lift his head as he looked at me with his big brown marble eyes. He was obviously not interested in offering up any agreement.
I flopped back into my chair and sipped my coffee. Catching a lock of hair with my finger, I twirled it as I thought. Or tried to think. I really couldn’t form anything coherent. I simply replayed that moment in the hallway over and over, obsessively.
“Okay,” I finally said, and it must have been loud because Leo did lift his head. “Enough.” I looked at him as he studied me. “It was just a kiss, Leo. That’s all. No big deal. God knows it’s been a long time since I’ve experienced one, so it’s no wonder I’m dwelling. Right?” This time, Leo cocked his head, as if actually contemplating what I’d said. “So. Enough. I’m putting that kiss in a box up on a high shelf so I can get back to work. Sound like a plan?”
Leo yawned, then set his head back down and sighed just as loudly as I had earlier.
“Nice.”
* * *
I managed to keep that box tucked away up on its very, very high shelf in my mind until Sunday afternoon. That’s when I lost all control, gave everything a good shake, and that box came happily tumbling off its shelf to spill all over the room.
My mother made a pot roast, which filled the house with the warmest, homiest smell on earth. Nothing made me feel more relaxed and content than that scent. I was helping her set the table as Leo sat in my father’s lap.
“Goddamn sons-a-bitches,” he mumbled at the TV, and I slid a look to my mom, who rolled her eyes good-naturedly and smiled.
“Don’t you be teaching my boy to swear, Dad,” I called to him. “He’s very impressionable, you know.” He didn’t respond, but I saw his shoulders move as he chuckled.
We were just sitting down to eat, the pot roast with potatoes and carrots on a platter in the center of the table, a plate of warm rolls just out of the oven next to them, when we heard the side door open and my brother’s voice called out, “Did I make it in time? Or did Dad eat all the meat already?”
The faces of both my parents lit up, something I was used to, as they didn’t see Scott nearly as often as they saw me. Leo stood up from his spot under the table and barked as my brother entered the room, shedding his jacket. He tossed it onto the couch, then crossed into the dining room and bent to kiss my mom.
“Smells amazing,” he said as he got himself a plate from the kitchen, then dug into the platter of meat and potatoes.
Scott and my dad launched into a rousing political discussion, which I would have found even more tedious if they’d been on opposite sides (which has happened in the past). Luckily, the entire family had similar opinions of the current administration, so my mother and I simply nodded and ate while Dad and Scott went on and on. Mom would throw me a glance every so often and wink at me or roll her eyes and I’d grin and we’d continue to eat. It was like Girl Code.
“And work?” my dad asked, as he shoveled the last bite of his roast into his mouth and reached for the platter and seconds.
“Work is great,” Scott said, with his usual enthusiasm. Both my parents’ kids loved their jobs. I think that made them happy. “We’ve won over several new clients lately, but we’re looking to expand that even more.”
“Marketing,” Dad said, almost as a grunt.
“Exactly.” Scott took a sip of the beer he’d grabbed from the fridge. “So, I’ve been dealing with Lacey’s new neighbor.” He pointed at me with his fork as he turned to look at me.
And here we go, I thought, making no comment.
“Oh,” my mom said. “I didn’t know that. Did you, Lacey?”
I nodded. “I did.”
“She really has a great handle on what we need,” Scott said. “I think her firm is going to be a big help.” I knew from the tone of his voice that things were about to take a turn. Scott isn’t terribly subtle. But I smiled to myself and ate some potatoes, letting him run with whatever he thought he had. “Plus, she’s so hot.”
“Scott,” my mother admonished.
“What? It’s true.” He bumped me with a shoulder. “Right, Lace-Face?”
I nodded again. “She’s very pretty.”
“We went to Carmichael’s Friday night.” He left out the part abou
t it being a business dinner, and I clenched my jaw to keep from stepping in. I didn’t want to look like I was trying to dampen his excitement.
“That new place?” my dad asked. “Pricey.”
“It is. And she paid. She’s kind of a modern woman that way.”
I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I had to poke at him. I couldn’t help myself. “Wasn’t that a business dinner?” I asked innocently, as I met his eyes. “I mean, it’s kind of standard practice for the business person trying to win the account to buy, isn’t it?”
Scott shrugged. “It was a combination. A little business…” He waggled his eyebrows in a way that made me want to punch him in the throat because of the sheer sexism of it. “A little not business.”
My father chuckled.
“You should see her, Dad.” Scott gave another look that I couldn’t even describe but knew it meant he wasn’t talking about anything to do with Alicia’s business prowess.
“Yeah?” my dad asked.
“Oh, yeah.”
And I suddenly felt like I was in a men’s locker room.
“I’m hoping we can have both a working relationship and a personal one,” Scott said then, and that was it.
I’d had enough.
I tossed my mother a look of apology, though she probably had no idea why. “That might be hard,” I said, taking my last bite of dinner.
“Oh?” Scott turned to me with expectation, his whole demeanor giving off an air of superiority, like he couldn’t wait to hear what his silly little sister had to say. “Why’s that?”
I set my fork down and dabbed the corner of my mouth with my napkin, taking my time until I knew everybody at the table was waiting for my answer. Then I pushed my chair back, stood up, and collected my dishes. I stepped away from the table. On my way to the kitchen, I passed behind Scott, leaned toward him, and said simply, “Because she was kissing me in the hallway yesterday.”
I heard my mother give a little gasp and my father guffawed loudly, and it was totally worth it. So completely, utterly, totally worth it. It wasn’t often I got to one-up my brother, but that moment was easily one of my favorites in all of life.